


And Bloody Endings

by Tandirra



Series: Old Series Redux [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loki Has Issues, Self-Sacrifice, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:25:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 42,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12392670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tandirra/pseuds/Tandirra
Summary: Following from the events of "Of Bloody Beginnings," the team must deal with finding out who this new villain is, and Amora's arrival doesn't help things in the slightest.





	1. 1: Amora

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself I'd get this thing out by the time Ragnarok came around and by god I did

What had been a routine mission, fishing out a band of serial bank robbers that cornered themselves and civilians inside a bank in Paris, had turned into a tense multi-hour standoff. As soon as the team had touched down the kidnappers outside had gone feral, attacking police officers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents alike with unnatural speed and strength. Though the ones who went rogue were eventually subdued it wasn’t without a struggle.

Whatever magic enhanced them, Loki promised wasn’t his fault, let the attackers get more than a few good hits off on all of them. Tony’s chestplate was partially caved and pressed painfully against his skin. Jarvis confirmed at least one fractured rib from the enchanced bash of a riflebutt. Steve limped from a bullet wound to the thigh. They couldn’t even call Bruce in for fear of harming the hostages.

Loki swore he could get inside and end this with minimal casualties, Tony was fairly inclined to agree, but the government agents overseeing their mission had shot him down. Forcing Steve to as well.

_ No casualties _ , was the order given. An exceptionally optimistic one. S.H.I.E.L.D. might as well have asked them to dance on a tripwire.

So, at a stalemate, they convened and waited.

“If we don’t do-” Steve flinched as Loki coaxed the bullet lodged in his thigh. The god said nothing, he’d been bitterly silent since his rebuffed attempt to help, but glared at Steve and tossed away the bloody bullet with enough force to lodge it in a nearby car. As Loki began to close the wound, Steve continued, “if we don’t act soon they’re going to start killing hostages anyway.”

Obviously deeply frustrated by their inaction, Thor stared down the bank. “We must rush them at once. Overwhelm them so they cannot act.” Beside Thor, Sif nodded, twirling her spear impatiently.

But Steve shook his head. “We can’t; too risky.”

Finished magically suturing Steve’s wound, Loki moved towards Tony, who saw him scowl and silently mimic Steve’s ‘ _ too risky _ ’ before slipping back into a suspiciously blank stare. He raised an eyebrow at the caved in metal near the arc reactor. 

“Jarvis confirmed a fractured rib but the reactor itself is functioning normally,” Tony said, gritting his teeth as Loki prodded at the metal. White light poured from Loki’s hand. At first, Tony felt nothing. Then he grunted as his rib jerked underneath his skin. Seconds later it burned like a hot coal. “Ow, ow!” 

The pain faded quickly as it had come and Loki rolled his eyes. “I’m done playing healer. Are we ready to put my real talents to work or not?” He barely waited for Steve to frown before stalking off. “Fine, punch your way out of this, see what happens.” Sitting on the hood of a parked car some ways off, Loki turned his back to them. It would have been a pretty funny pout if there weren’t lives on the line.

For a few long moments everyone was silent. Steve massaged his temple. “Look, I know what our orders are and they’re idealistic but… if we follow them, nobody might be saved. And I'm not willing to let that happen.” Tony could hear the frustration in Steve’s voice.

At this point, Loki’s plan was looking like their best option. “Y’know…” Tony said, as slowly and diplomatically as possible. “Stealth is in Loki’s wheelhouse.” 

Natasha didn’t look up from reloading her pistol. “Mine too. And, honestly, if we’ve got someone who can  _ literally  _ be invisible, we might as well put him to use. I’m giving him the benefit of doubt on this.” Natasha’s word solidifying Tony’s point, the team slowly nodded.

They turned to Loki, who still sat, back to them.

“Hey, Antlers, we’re biting.” Tony called out. When Loki didn’t respond he walked over to the god. “What, you want the gold medal for pettiness? Because I can make that hap--” His hand passed through Loki. 

_ Goddamn typical. _

The illusion dissolved into light, leaving nothing.

From behind, Tony heard Steve sigh, “son of a bitch.” 

 

**00000**

 

Grinning to himself, Loki stepped through the wall of the bank.  _ If they weren’t going to act he could do this himself. They could thank him afterwards _ . That he had shown so much restrain in letting them run in circles for as long as they had was, in and of itself worthy of congratulations, he thought. Inside he saw a circle of hostages sitting in the dead center of the main room, surrounded by their kidnappers. The kidnappers swayed slightly, mumbling under their breath in unison. They were clearly under some mind ensnaring enchantement. If he simply found the source he could lift it. Should he not: the punching solution had its merits. Though Tony would never let him live it down.

What the kidnappers muttered sounded at first like meaningless numbers and words, repeated ad nauseam. The usual babble of those under such enchantments. Annoying but otherwise unnecessary.

With a jolt, Loki realized it was an address and a phrase. Both of which he recognized. In an instant he knew who controlled these men.  _ Her _ . He knew not whether to be relieved it wasn't Luke or equally apprehensive at her presence in this mess.

“Meet again, along the river,” murmured the nearest kidnapper as he swayed.

_ Paris, of course, he should have known _ . Steeling himself, Loki disappeared from the bank and appeared outside a decades old restaurant. Even as light-headedness rolled over him he saw a familiar blonde figure sitting outside. She swirled a glass of red wine and brushed some of her waist length hair from her face and off her bare shoulder. She was almost entirely as he remembered, delicate but over sharp features working wonders to conceal her true deadliness, strikingly blonde hair curling loosely and catching the light. The emerald dress she wore was thin but no doubt her armor lurked just out of sight. Loki released the invisibility spell. “Hello Amora.”

The Enchantress looked up, smiling at him from over her wine. There was what  _ looked  _ like real friendliness in her eyes, though Loki wasn’t ready to believe that just yet. “Long time no see, Loki. What  _ did  _ you do with thy hair?” As Loki took a seat, she snapped her fingers. “You know, they still have that wine we loved.” A waiter appeared, his eyes glimmered a dull green. “Another of these for my friend here.” The waiter nodded and disappeared inside. “Is Thor seeing anyone?” She batted her immaculate eyelashes innocently.

“Yes,” he snapped her diverting question down. “Ensorcelling random Midgardians, are we? Sounds more like something thy sister would do.” Loki smirked as she glared at him. He still knew the buttons to push.

“Do not bring her into this and ruin a good thing. Oh, wait.” She cocked her head. “You already did.” Bitterness, now there was a familiar tone.

Loki rolled his eyes but didn’t refuse. It would change nothing of their history. The waiter returned and Loki took the drink offered to him. Amora’s intentions were clearly not wholly hostile, Loki let himself take a sip of the red wine. She was right. It hadn’t changed, a rare case on Midgard’s ever shifting surface.

Sipping her own, Amora tapped the fine glass with her nails. “See?”

“Mmm… But you didn’t take hostages just to get me out for wine when you could have very well just sent an invitation. Why are you here?”

“You summoned me here. That question I should be asking thee.”

Loki stared her down. “No… I did no such thing.” A dread cold crept down his spine even as the wine warmed his stomach,  _ if not him… _

She frowned. “It could only have come from you,  _ sweetie _ .” What friendliness there was in her eyes quickly evaporated to the cold, diamond sharp detachment he’d last seen of her.

“Don’t call me that,” he snipped impatiently. “And no. I did not contact you. You should know better than to think I would.” Loki barely realized he’d hissed the words and smoothed his face of emotion before she could pick them apart.

Tracing the patterns of the wood table, Amora stared out at the empty street. The hostage situation had thrown the entire city into total shut down. Their conversations was private as could be in a grand metropolis. “Then you continue to disappoint. First, I hear you’ve ascended the throne of Asgard.  _ Finally _ you find the spine to carry out what I wanted you to do for decades. Two days later I hear you squandered that chance and threw thyself into the roots of the world tree.” She paused tauntingly as Loki flinched.

The memory, the unmatchable sound of reality crumbling and remaking itself around him, echoed in his ears. “Amora--”

“Disappointing. Then, a year later, I hear you’re not dead and you’re attempting a coup of Midgard. I scold myself for believing tricksy little you could die so easy and I wait to see what happens. Clearly your ambitions were growing even if thy grasp on style had weakened. That hair was awful,” she interrupted herself with a disapproving tut. “Then you fail, miserably and embarrassingly.” She grinned while Loki remained falsely impassive. A run of his greatest failures was the last thing he wanted to hear from her. “Another disappointment. Then I hear you’ve decided to help the very people who so humiliated you and I think you’ve truly lost thy mind. Or thy dignity. Yet another disappointment.” Taking a sip from her wine, she shrugged. “Though, thy hair did get better.”

“Amora, enough,” he growled, resisting the urge to brush his hair from his face to not give her the pleasure of acknowledgement.

“Ah-- I’m not done yet, sweetie.” Holding up a hand, she shushed him. “But then I get a message from you and decide to answer because maybe you’ve had a change of heart. Turns out, no, another disappointment. How can one person cope with being that disappointing? Do you even sleep at night, Loki?”

_ Not well. _ He fumed but pulled a smirk. “Twas you, not I, who ran back to this ‘ _ disappointment _ ,’ Amora.”

She narrowed her eyes, though blush tinted her cheeks. “You and your smart mouth. If you were half as clever as thy words you’d already own this realm.”

“Good thing I’m twice as clever, then,” Loki quipped back. She was one to talk, never having felt the scorn of the green monster Avenger. “I am attempting… there is a Midgardian phrase: I'm turning over a new leaf, Amora.  _ Changing _ . Perhaps you should try.

Scowling, Amora downed the rest of her drink. “I see. You want me to release the men under my control, I presume? Talk about goodie two-shoes.” With a wistful breath, she spoke, “we could have had Asgard at our feet if you hadn’t chickened out. Now look at you, fraternizing with Midgardians. Don’t tell me you actually care about them?”

Time was of the essence. At any moment the situation at the bank could dissolve. But he knew brushing Amora off would only annoy her. “The same way a king loves his subjects, as a means to an end,” he lied with a smile.

Amora smiled, oversweet. “Awh, you’re becoming a sentimentalist.” Her smile dipped into an even nastier scowl. “Liar.” She stood and flipped her hair back, it glinted in the setting sun and reminded Loki of times long passed. “Fine, they’re free. Go cuddle up next to your new besties. See if I care.” She sniffed with haughty annoyance. “And  _ change _ , Loki?  _ Really? _ How long will that last, hmm? I thought you would at least lie better to thyself.” Vanishing in a flash of light, Amora left Loki alone. As had been decades ago.

He stared at her empty wineglass and the dark lipstick stain upon in. Amora was as insufferable as ever. Part of him wondered what, outside of her magical talent, drew him to her in the first place. But he knew. He’d been alone and young, very alone, just the right age for manipulation on both sides. And they  _ were  _ rather alike, both prone to such things.

Even if he was attempting a change, Amora left him unsteady.

Groaning, he waited. The Avengers could clean up the situation without him. They would find him. He was not ready to tell them what spectre of his past had returned. They had enough to worry about with one rogue sorcerer already. A few more moments of ignorance could do no harm.


	2. 2: Discovery

Soft waves lapped against glittering white sand. Inspecting a half broken sand dollar, Amora sighed; _ if Loki hadn’t sent for her, then who had? _ The pretty boy seemed genuine in his rebuttal but she had been so certain. 

Though  _ pretty  _ wasn’t quite the right word anymore. Gone was the youth that burned bright with hope and a bitterness not so honed; gone were sharp edges padded by lavish royalty and pampering in the way that only Asgard could. In fact, he seemed to have run against a whetstone. Hard lines ran where youth had once been, blue-green eyes odd, tired, a bit fractured. Even the softness that had inched its way back into his features since the images she saw of his assault on Midgard barely concealed what he had become.  _ Deadly  _ was a far better description of this new Loki. She had to wonder what was left beneath that surface she could recognize.

Gulls cried out overhead. At least she could enjoy her alone time.

As if summoned by her thoughts, footsteps sounded behind her. A man stopped at her side.

Rolling her eyes, she pushed her will against him and didn’t stop watching the horizon. “Go away.” He would, of course, comply. Nobody interrupted her.

He did not move a step.

Scowling, she pushed again against his thoughts. Glancing over, she noticed he wore shiny black shoes undeterred by the white sand;  _ how strange _ .

His will pushed back against her own and she gasped. The sense was ancient and radiated an overwhelming power that threatened to choke her upon touch. There was something achingly familiar about it that she couldn’t place but rustled cobwebs within her mind. The man sat next to her, shiny shoes and all black suit not marred by the sparkling landscape. His face was a smear, obscured by a spell. “Nice to see you too, Amora.” His voice was an old creak.

“Who--” she gulped, keeping fear from her voice. “What are you? How do you know me?”

The man shrugged. Though his shoulders were curved with age, his movements were fluid. This was no Midgardian. “Some call me Luke. A select few. But I go by many more names than that.” He laughed, a wheezing crack against the calm air. “And how, Amora dear, do I know of you? You made quite the impression on me. I think your skills could come in handy with what I need.”

Suspicious, Amora readied herself to flee in case the man, whatever he was, attacked. “I do not work for free. Nor am I comfortable being… bossed around. What’s in it for me?” She was gripped with the distinct feeling she shouldn’t turn this creature down. That, perhaps, she  _ couldn’t. _

His presence still loomed over her like a monstrous wave ready to crash down and destroy anything it touched. “Ever the opportunist.” He sounded blandly amused. “To put this simply, you can get that opportunity you lost. That little godling stole away your chance for power, real power, and went soft hearted on you. You are right, he cannot change. And it just so happens I’m sick of him shirking his fate for so long. Let’s set him straight, you and I. You get your chance at power and I… get what I want.”

This man, Luke, was holding out on her though his words were as sweet as honey, exactly what she wished to hear. And his sheer power lent him credibility she was inclined to believe. “How can I trust thy word? That I get first bid at the power and not thee?”

Again, Luke laughed. He snapped his fingers. For a moment, Amora felt the world warp in on itself. Then a pair of green margaritas appeared in his hands, complete with mini-umbrellas. She took hers, rattled.  _ How--  _ “You misunderstand. I need no claim on his power. Not when I have my own. I’d simply prefer him to capitalize on his true calling rather soon.” He raised his drink, the tiny umbrella tilting dangerously to one side. “To us!”

Echoing his statement, Amora clinked their glasses together, “to us.” Though he drank deep, she hesitated. Even now his presence loomed over her. He had warped reality to make them drinks; a reckless thing even in the direst circumstances. “ _ What _ are you?” If she had him, she didn’t need Loki.  _ But how easy would it be to curl him around her finger,  _ she wondered _ ; that seemed a daunting task. _

The smear of Luke’s face flickered just for a moment and she caught a nasty cracked smile, white teeth bared like a fox. “Dear Amora, if you cannot guess then you don’t deserve to know. After all I did to get you back on Midgard I shouldn’t have to enlighten you further.” He took a sip of his drink. “And, Amora, nobody owns me. Cast that thought from your mind if you know what’s good for you.” It was as if he had read her mind though she had felt no such probing.

She twirled the umbrella through her icy margarita when the realization struck her.  _ Him _ . Sitting up straight, she stared incredulously at the slightly hunched figure with his wheezing laugh and smug smile. “You… How?”

“There you go; I’m not giving up all my tricks, Amora.”

 

**00000**

 

Running his fingers across the paperlight fabric Tony handed him, Loki frowned. “You are confident in this?” The fabric felt like silk though it was covered in tiny, clear hexagons. Loki could see his hand, slightly distorted, though it.

Taking the fabric, Tony slipped it over his own face. It compressed around him and left his features blurred. “Hell yeah, gimme a face to work with.” Through the smear, Tony’s grin shone.

Leaning on the worktable that separated them, Loki smirked and his features shifted. Dark hair curled out around her face. Loki raised her eyebrows. “How’s this?” Loki knew it was still her, though Tony seemed not to have picked up on that yet.  _ He’d understand eventually, _ Loki mused. And, technically, it was a different face.

Tony fiddled with the laptop next to him. “That look’s growing on me, gotta admit.”

“I have fantastic taste, of course it is.” As Loki spoke, she watched the fabric covering Tony’s face light up. Slowly it shifted to passably ressemble Loki’s own. Holographic hair flickered to life around his face though Tony’s body went unchanged. “That is… adequate I  _ suppose _ .”

“Boo, you’re impressed.” Tony’s voice modulator pitched up and down, finally settling into a close imitation of Loki’s. “Tadaa! Do another, we gotta test this baby’s adaptability.”

With a blink, Loki became Thor. “It is I, Thor Odinson! He who is big on brawn and little on brain. Watch as I punch my way in and out of all problems!”

Tony snickered as he typed. Again, the fabric shifted. Grabbing a hammer from inside his workdesk, Tony held it aloft. “I’m off to eat all the cereal and tell nary a soul about it! Stand aside, puny one!”

Grinning wide, Loki shifted again, this time mimicking Steve. He leaned in close to Tony, who was busy catching his technology up. “Would you care for a rousing discussion on justice, Anthony?”

Still giggling, Tony’s fabric mask morphed. He crossed his arms and faked a pensive look. “Oh, I don’t know. Would you rather indulge in a bit of vehicular destruction? I’m only on my third motorcycle of the week; I’m way behind schedule and--”

The elevator doors opened and the real Steve looked up from a folder he held. “Hey Tony, could you…” At the sight of them, one a fully mimicked Steve, uniform and all, and the other a Steve headed Tony, Steve sighed. “Never _ mind _ , I’ll ask Bruce.” With an exhausted look he stepped directly back into the elevator, shutting the doors behind him.

Tony and Loki exchanged a long, silent look before Tony peeled off his mask and burst out laughing, hair mussed. Loki dropped his own illusion and followed suit. Once his sides began to ache, Loki pulled himself together and picked up the silken fabric. “It’s impressive for Midgardian technology, certainly. But,” Loki stood, still smirking, “it’s limited by your body. What I can do is far more… flexible.” As he spoke, Loki shifted until a fox grinned toothily at Tony.

“Show off,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

Laughing, Loki shifted back. “You have pale imitations of my abilities. I on the other hand, have the real thing. You may do great things with your machines but they are  _ only  _ machines and I shall always be two steps ahead.”

Tony snatched the fabric back from Loki and inspected it. “As you’ve told me before. But if we’re gonna face off against Luke or this Amora chick, I’ve got to have some magic of my own.” Loki flinched at the names but nodded.

Noticing his reaction, Tony grew serious. “And you’ve still got nothing on Luke? Not even a trace?”

“He has, for a intents and purposes, vanished despite my best efforts. I find myself hoping he has downed himself by his own hubris.” Pausing, Loki shook his head. “But I can still feel him out there, waiting.” Loki wasn’t sure how, or why, but he knew it to be the truth. Or, mostly the truth. Searching for Luke wasn’t something he much indulged in.

“We’ll catch him red handed eventually. Guy has to slip up somewhere.” There was little other than weak self assurance in Tony’s words.

But Loki played along. “I hope you’re correct.”

Jarvis spoke suddenly. “Sir, I am receiving reports of of a hostage situation developing at an expo in San Francisco. The same one that--”

Tony shot up, Loki saw fear overtake him. “Pepper!” He bolted for the elevator. “Suit up, meet me at the Quinjet!” His voice was magnified over the tower’s speakers.

He left Loki alone without further explanation.

By the time everyone gathered, Tony had already taken off across the country. He explained, still clearly frazzled, through the Quinjet communications. “There’s a clean energy showcase. I sent Pepper and Happy there. I can’t get ahold of either of them! Loki do you think--”

“Luke? It’s a possibility. He may be after your technology or…your friends.” The rest of the jet listened on in grim silence. Loki guessed the latter.

“Shit,” Tony cursed. “What would he want with Pepper?”

“Leverage?” Natasha suggested from the cockpit.

A short pause on Tony’s end. “How can I beat him?”

Everyone looked to Loki who sighed with frustration. As if he knew that answer. “I never even laid a hand on him, Anthony.” He’d once thought of using the Avenger’s human weakness to get to them but had never acted on it. It was a nasty thought, but Tony was not the only one who kept his heart vulnerable. Loki looked to his brother, solemn. “Thor, when last did you speak with Foster?”

Thor shrugged. “A fortnight ago. She and Darcy were traveling to a village in Greenland, I believe. Why…” Within moments, Thor’s confusion sparked to horror. Loki saw him tighten his grip on Mjolnir. “They are in danger.”

Moving to the cockpit, Loki saw storms gathering around them. “Possibly. We must check. Barton.”

“Yeah, hold on Tony, we’ll be back with you in a sec.” Clint closed Tony’s line. “Hey, how’d you talk to her anyway, Thor? I thought Stark stopped giving you phones after you broke the last one.”

Thor was obviously not in the mood for Barton’s jokes but answered nevertheless. “Er-- Banner helped me set up a… Skype? It’s rather an unreliable medium, however.”

“The God of Thunder has a Skype? Don't you know there's better services out there?” Clint sounded amused as he fiddled with his controls. “We’ve got Dr. Foster’s number on record. You ready?”

Thor nodded, a muscle in his jaw jumped.

They didn’t have to wait more than two rings before the call was picked up. Amora’s silky voice oozed over the jet’s speakers. “Is this how this works; how archaic. So the old one was right. Hello boys, I hope I’m not spoiling your moods, such a tragedy that would be.”

Thunder roiled outside and on Thor’s voice. “Enchantress, if you hurt them I shall--”

“Tut-tut. Always so easy to anger, Odinson. Speaking of, Loki dear, do you know what an old man told me? You’ll never guess.” Her taunts were gleeful.

An icy spike of dread ran Loki through. “You cannot work with Luke, Amora. He’s dangerous in ways you know not.” The pair of them together made a nasty duo.

The sound of a struggle rang from the other end. “Thor? Thor,” a voice that had to be the Foster woman shouted, sounding winded. “Don’t come, it’s--unf!” A body fell away with a soft ‘thump.’

And Amora returned. “These Midgardians are a feisty bunch. First the snarky one attempts to electrocute me with a little box, now this.” She sighed. “So irritating. Anyway, see you around, boys.” The line went dead.

Lightning forked across the air just in front of the jet and forced Clint to swerve. Clutching the wall to remain upright, Loki shouted at Thor as rain poured down. “Brother, we can get to them but only if you calm down!” Loki struggled his way to Thor as the jet pitched downwards. A fit from Thor was the last thing they needed.

Sif did the same. “Thor, do not drop us from the sky!”

Laying a hand on Mjolnir’s head, Loki could feel energy surging off of it. “Thor. Calm.  _ Down _ . Think.” With his other hand, Loki gripped Thor’s shoulder, using him for balance as the jet continued to pitch and the team shouted around them.

Thor glanced between the two of them and Loki saw the fury crashing in his eyes. But neither Loki nor Sif turned away and the storm began to fade. Thor took a deep breath. “I am lucky to have the two of you.” Despite the direness of the situation Loki couldn’t help but feel a thrill of pleasure. Though it was immediately quashed by Sif’s similar smile. Thor continued, turning to Loki. “We must set Amora straight, you and I.”

“Aye.” Loki looked to Sif, more than a little smug. She rolled her eyes. “You are needed if they encounter Luke. Tread carefully, we know not the nature of this new game he plays.” Still looking annoyed, she nevertheless nodded.

Waving a hand from the cockpit, Clint spoke. “Tracked the call to Ilulissat, Greenland. “ He pulled up a map, which took Loki only a few moments to memorize.

Thor held out a hand. “Brother, can you get us there?”

“Not easily.” Loki took his wrist, not looking forward to what came next. 

“Then we do things my way.” The back of the Quinjet opened and wind roared. Thor begun to swing Mjolnir and shifted his grip so that he had a firm grasp on Loki’s shoulder. The pressure was both familiar and strange.

Begrudgingly, Loki braced himself. “Your way, indeed.” 

They lifted off the jet as Thor took flight. Biting wind stung Loki’s face and tugged at his hair. The landscape far beneath them raced by and soon they flew over a shimmering sea. The only constant was Thor’s grip on him, the only thing keeping Loki from tumbling into the depths below. As they approached the town, Loki shouted over the wind. “Not over the village! Don’t- _ ae- _ -” Loki bit back a yelp as Thor angled downward. They shot towards the ground and only at the last second did they slow. Their landing was light.

Pulling away from Thor, Loki tried to calm his thudding heart. “Oh, I  _ hate  _ you.”

Though Thor’s gaze was solely for the town, he grinned a bit. “I thought you liked a good trick?” He looked far too pleased with himself for Loki’s tastes.

Grumbling, Loki combed a hand through his windblown hair. “You have a poor definition of the concept.” He too looked towards the town across the fjord. “Do you know where they were staying?”

Thor frowned. “Er… big red building, I believe she mentioned. Hotel something…”

“Hotel Arctic?” Loki spotted the bright red structure, its name emblazoned in white block letters across its side. “How original. Stay here. If I have not returned in ten minutes, come after me.”

Before he could move, Thor took his shoulders. “Whatever you plan on attempting, be careful. I know Amora--”

“I can handle her just fine, brother.” Loki told himself that was true. It had been before. Loki flicked his wrist and felt himself change near instantaneously. Shiny black and white feathers burst from his skin as he shrank until he sat, a magpie of black and white, on Thor’s shoulder. Taking off, he flew towards the town, beelining for the large red building. He circled it until spotting a window ajar. Fluttering down, Loki peaked inside the room.

A lone laptop sat on one of the two small beds, both of whose covers were strewn about. A painting of the fjord hung lopsided off the wall. The shattered remains of a lamp cluttered a corner. Loki landed on the dresser, with its drawers open. He prepared to shift back.

“Clever magpie, haven’t you ever heard that old saying? How does it go?” Amora appeared from nothing and grabbed him with a smirk. “One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy and so on and so on.” Loki struggled against her hand that kept him from changing. “I count one,” she tutted never losing her wicked smirk. “And you’re no stranger to sorrow are you, bird?” She released him and Loki fell to the ground, changing as he did. “What a surprise.”

Standing, Loki dusted feathers from him and tried to keep a cool tone. “Where are they, Amora?” Immediately off balance, he attempted to level the playing field and stared her down.

Her grin was unsettling. She had a secret she was clearly dying to divulge. “Downstairs but why do you care? They’re just Midgardians.”

Sighing, Loki quietly conjured a dagger, tucking it out of sight. “I don’t. They’re Thor’s charge. I’m simply trying to keep you from incurring his wrath.” It was a half truth. “Let them go. And forget Luke.” For once, he wished she would listen to him.

Amora’s smug look deepened as she reached out. “Oh, Loki. Now why would I do that?”

He let her put a hand on his cheek. The touch held unnatural weight and sent cold shivers down his spine. “Luke is dangerous. He’s already attacked me to make a point. He works only for his own gain.”

“A bit hypocritical, coming from  _ you _ .” Her long nails pricked his skin and, with her other hand, she took his arm.

This was a dance Loki could follow. As little he liked it. He moved in closer to her, cupping the hand she held against his face. “I don’t even know what he is, Amora. Even Hel’s dread gaze couldn’t locate him.”

Voice breathy, Amora traced his cheekbone. “Nay, I think you know.”

“You are mistaken.”

Amora gazed at him, her green eyes full of what looked like pity. Not an emotion she was known for. “Don’t you get it, Loki?”

There were footsteps in the doorway. “Your willful ignorance has served it's purpose long enough, little Loki.” Luke’s face was now a smear of colors. His suit was jet black and far nicer than when Loki had last seen him. No longer did he wear gloves, his worn hands were pale, covered in rings; some of which were unmistakably Asgardian. “It’s time I set this investment in stone.” His all too familiar voice sent Loki’s blood boiling.

“I am no one's  _ investment _ .” Still in Amora’s arms, Loki hissed towards his old tormentor. His hands slipped off Amora’s face.

Luke inspected his close cropped nails. He spoke almost offhand. “You’re right, of course. None should own Loki.”

“Then who do you think you are?” He felt Amora’s breath hitch in her chest. In his hand he held his dagger.

Luke’s laugh, more of a giggle, was wheezing as his stooped shoulders shook. “You know me, Loki. Deep down you knew me the moment we met.”

Going cold, Loki stepped back, away from Amora. Grim certainty he couldn’t quite grasp wrestled itself from the back of his mind. Luke’s laughter was so familiar. As the smear of a face stared him down, Loki felt certain fear nipping at him. “You’re misguided. You’re naught but a villain in the shadows to me.” He wished it to be true.

Luke’s laughter doubled and he wiped at his eyes. “Ehe, you’re so right!” His hand swept away the smear where it traveled. A cold, cracked, blue-green eye stared back at Loki. _ So familiar. _ Something akin to horror lurched in Loki’s stomach. _ Surely it couldn’t be--  _ “Let me impart to you a riddle. I run more when sick then when hearty, I blush like a maiden when in my cups, and I smell even after I bathe. Who am I?”

It was a simple riddle. The answer, Loki knew. But a trap was closing in around him, sharp steel teeth bit at his neck. “I- I don’t--” The room seemed to shrink around him.

With his one unobscured eye, Luke winked. “Oh? Surely I am as plain as the nose on your face! Or should I say, little Loki,” ever so slowly, Luke wiped away the enchantment, “my face.” Two cold, cracked eyes leered under dark, angry brows and darker shoulder length hair, immaculately slicked back.

“No.” Loki turned away, his mind was blank. His ears rang. It wasn’t. _ It couldn’t be. _

“Yes, little Loki.” Magic tugged at Loki’s face and forced his eyes forward. “I’m not ‘ _ Luke _ .’ And I never was. Loki, I’m you.” The older Loki leered at him with victorious eyes and cracked lips. “Or, more appropriately, you are, and will be, me.  _ Me _ , Loki Laufeyson, ruler of Midgard and Jotunheim, God of Evil, villainous adopted brother of Asgard’s king Thor. As it has been for the last three thousand years. As it will be for millennia to come!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I realized who I wanted Luke to be this is the moment I hotly anticipated writing, references to the storyline I'm snagging from the comics and all. And I hope the effect I was going for delivered itself across effectively


	3. 3: Disillusionment

“No, no, no, _ no, no _ . You’re not- you can’t--” Loki heard his dagger clatter to the floor. He reeled back, slammed hard into one of the cramped beds and dimly felt it groan and crack. His vision spun, though he couldn’t tear himself away from the grin of his older self. This was some cruel trick of Amora’s. It had to be. 

Bowing low, the old Loki chuckled as Amora swept to his side. “Yes! I am and can! Look at me and see your shining future! Oh, how it ravaged me to disguise myself from you for so long. But necessity, necessity.” He turned his grin on Amora and lifted her chin with his thumb. “Beautiful Amora, you’re changing your fate for the better, I assure you. Now, be a doll.” As Amora sauntered to Loki, old Loki rocked on his heels, his toothy grin never faltering. “I’m saving us, saving you, Loki. You’ll understand when you’re my age. Though… hopefully sooner. I’d love to stay and explain but I’ve got to hop away before that pesky brother of ours comes charging in. You know how he is. I’d hate to ruin the surprise for him.”

Loki looked past Amora as she stood next to him. It couldn’t be. It  _ couldn’t be true. _ But it was. Every bone in his body told him it was. She traced his lips with a finger, murmuring. “It’s the best for us all this way.” She pulled him down and pressed her lips against his. Loki couldn’t find the will to pull away. He never broke his watch of the older Loki.

Seemingly amused by the sight, old Loki covered his mouth in a gesture of false scandal. “But, you want to know my favorite thing, little Loki?”

As Amora kissed him, Loki felt the sharp pain of cold steel slicing into his gut. He grunted as all the air left him and pushed away as she twisted the blade. He stumbled to a sit on the broken bed behind him, hissing for breath.

Old Loki loomed over him, standing tall as the very realm seemed to fray. “You won’t tell a soul about this. About me. About  _ you _ .” He waggled a worn hand. “Toodles. I look forward to keeping in touch.” In a flash of green light, both he and Amora disappeared.

Glancing down, Loki gripped the dagger lodged in his stomach. Every unsteady breath jostled it and rocked him with shooting agony. But he couldn’t move it. He stared at his hands. _ His hands. _

The dagger, he had to remove it. He told himself, forcing action as his fingers cramped, suddenly stiff. Surely Amora had poisoned it. If he could just move his hands.

Old Loki’s hands. His hands.

Thunder roiled outside.

Loki’s vision flickered.  _ But he thought he’d changed. _ He wasn’t Loki the villain. He was merely Loki. Yet that spectre of his future was nothing but. _ And since when had he believed the lie, _ hissed a whisper in his head. That Loki had told no lies. His truth cut Loki deeper than the blade buried in him. Excruciatingly slow, wrestling every muscle for control, Loki pulled the dagger from his stomach. It was slick with his blood and his body screamed as it ravaged his insides. But his mind was cold, numb, precise. The dagger dropped to the bedsheets and Loki pressed his hands against the wound as heavy blood welled.

Luke. Obviously.  _ Obviously _ .

Thunder crashed and Thor burst through the window, sending shattered glass flying. “Brother!” Thor grabbed him by the shoulders, sending pain jolting through Loki.

Meeting Thor’s gaze, reluctantly, Loki jerked his head down. “ _ I’mfine. _ Go. Downstairs.”

After a moment of hesitation, Thor nodded and swept from the room.

Consciousness fading in and out, Loki saw Thor return; how much time had passed, Loki knew not. Thor laid a still figure on the bed opposite Loki. He spoke but what he said was lost to an impenetrable haze. The words of the old Loki repeated themselves in Loki’s head. _ See your shining future! Your shining future! I’m saving you! _

Roughly, Thor jostled Loki, forcing him painfully back to awareness. “Loki! You must hear me!”

“I can.” Loki’s voice was more of a croak than he would have preferred. Wincing, he cleared his throat, paying for it as his wound ached. He kept his hands pressed firmly against the hole in his gut. “Amora- she stabbed me. She’s working with… with Luke.”

Blessedly oblivious to his hesitation, Thor cursed, “damn her. And damn him. Can you--” Thor glanced worriedly at the blood oozing from beneath Loki’s hands. “Are you fit to mend thy wounds?”

Burying his thoughts on old Loki under his more pressing needs, Loki gingerly moved his hands. The leather of his armor was punctured clean through and blood slicked it. With a flick of his wrist, Loki removed his chest armor, leaving only his mangled undershirt. Sticky with blood as it was, Loki slowly peeled the shirt up. He kept his breaths shallow but even so they rocked him. The blade had entered just below his sternum, no doubt rearranging his organs as it did. The skin around the wound was latticed with dark poison.

Jane whistled at the sight, alerting Loki, for the first time to her presence at Thor’s side. She sported a split lip and a bruised cheek, her brown hair was knotted. She wore some strange cat shirt. He realized, numbly, that they had yet to formally meet. Had he more judgement to spare, he may have given her more thought. All things considered, she fared far better than Loki would have expected. 

He nodded to her, stiffly cordial. “Greetings. I see you’ve experienced Amora’s fine sense of hospitality.” A thrill of defiance ran through him. Surely, if he were to become that older Loki, he wouldn’t act so diplomatically.

Touching her split lip, Jane shrugged. “I’m fine. Darcy’s the one I’m worried about.” Her voice was cool and distant. 

_ Had she seen what he would become? _ Loki pushed the fear away. If she had, he’d already be in chains. He glanced briefly at the dark haired figure on the bed opposite. Solidly unconscious. “I shall deal with her after…”

Delicately, Loki extracted the poison from his body. He wove it into thin looping tendrils that floated on the air like spider silk. The act required, gratefully, single minded concentration and for countless long minutes he thought only of the spell and the tug of his seidr. As soon as the last of the poison was out of his system, Loki let the tendrils fall to the floor, where they soaked into the already bloodstained carpet. Loki groaned, one task done with. He had neither the strength nor the desire to fully heal his wound, so he settled for magically suturing his skin around the wound. The invisible strings stung like fire.

_ His shining future. _

Loki flinched; he hurriedly played it off by rising. The movement pulled at his sutures.

Obviously alarmed, Thor steadied him. “Easy.”

“I’m quite capable, Thor,” Loki snapped. Though a part of him immediately regretted the action. That did line up with his older self. Face impassive as he could manage, he inspected the woman, Darcy, lying upon the bed.

Other than a thin scrape along her dark hairline, she appeared fine. Her chest rose with steady, calm breaths, her pulse was strong as Loki felt at her wrist. He could feel the faint trace of Amora’s spell thrumming within her. Loki turned to Jane. “What did you see Amora do? It is essential you remember clearly.”

Jane looked to Thor, who smiled and nodded encouragingly. “Darce tried to taze her, didn’t work out too hot. Miss High-and-Mighty, er--” Jane waved her hands nervously. “Made a motion like punching her and Darcy collapsed. Been out ever since. Can you help her?”

It was an easy guess what ailed the woman on the bed. Even in his current state dispelling the magic would be simple. Loki stared at the blood caking his hands, already drying to a dirty mess. “Do you trust me to do this?”

His words seemed to trip Thor up. “I--” Thor laughed, surprised. “I think you’d need not ask that question, brother. My only worry is if you possess the energy within you to do so now.” The concern in Thor’s voice made Loki ache deep. When had the change happened? When had been the last time that concern would be mutual? Loki couldn’t look Thor in the eye. “I shan’t have you hurt yourself further,” Thor clarified as if he needed it.

Guilt lurched in Loki’s stomach. His big, idiot, oaf of a brother perhaps genuinely trusted him. It was something he didn’t deserve.

_ His shining future. _ Built on lies and how much blood? He feared one day he’d know.

He did not have to fear, for it was inevitability. That old Loki with pale lips and angry eyes who was and would be.  _ But perhaps if he tried hard enough… _ The thought would not finish itself, as even his mind knew its folly. But he could try to change, more, more, until he was better; like Thor, like the heros that he could never be.

Taking a deep breath, Loki struggled for a smug grin. “Now why would I do something like that? Watch and marvel, brother and Lady Jane.” He held his hands out. With a push of will and little delicacy he shattered the spell woven tight around Darcy in a corona of light, paying no mind to how his sutures loosened as his seidr dipped. Hot blood oozed from his stomach. 

Darcy’s eyes flew open and she gasped. 

Good. He’d done something good. Nothing like that other Loki. 

_ It does not matter, _ hissed a thought he failed to smother.

Still gulping down air, Darcy focused on him. “I thought… my prince charming would be less b-bloody. Or maybe a red-head.”

Her strange words ruined his moment of triumph. Loki glanced at Thor in confusion. “What does she speak of?” He had not thought the spell had seeped deeper into her,  _ but perhaps in his eagerness he had carelessly-- _

Before Thor could do naught but smile with relief, Jane launched herself at Darcy. “Oh my god, you’re okay!”

Embracing Jane back, Darcy laughed weakly. “Duh? You really thought that bottle blonde chick could get the best of me?” She patted Jane’s back with one hand and waved at Thor with her other. “Hey! Lookin good, Thor.” Her eyes shifted to Loki but lost none of their perk. “Better than weird emo prince charming over here, at least.”

Loki opened his mouth to refute her but tasted blood on his tongue and thought better of it. His knees buckled dangerously as he stepped away from the pair and though he tried to keep his weakness hidden from Thor, Loki felt his brother’s worried gaze on him. All that mattered was that he did something good. Something to oppose his older self. Surely that meant he could change.

_ Lie. _

He felt stretched across a wire. As if one wrong move would snap him from this realm. Or perhaps that one mistake would snap the realm itself and leave him alone with his sneering _ bright future _ .

Thor gripped him tight as he swayed ever so slightly, his legs betraying him. “Brother, that was foolish.”

“You’re foolish.” Not his finest or wittiest response. He allowed himself to lean into Thor. “I’m rather tired.” His hands were still caked in dried blood, and the fresh stuff leaked from his wound. “And I’d like a bath.” All he wanted to do was sleep and forget.

_ To change and change and change, all for naught, _ muttered a furious thought;  _ as if the Norns were laughing at him for thinking he could at all. _

Thor chuckled in his ear, weary too. He wrapped an arm around Loki’s shoulders and ignored how Loki stiffened. _ He doesn't know, he doesn't know, if he did he would-- _ “Those luxuries will have to wait until our friends return with their jet. I think neither of us are up to travelling with such a full party.” Loki felt Thor squeeze him tight as the two women continued to bicker without venom. “No false promises of strength? There’s a surprise.” Thor’s words were good natured but they carried an undeniability that burned. “How did Amora get the better of you, brother?”

Watching the wind from the shattered window tear at the curtains, Loki blinked over long. 

Were Thor to know this moment would end. He would snap against this wire that rasp against him and tear into pieces. To speak aloud the truth would of make it real, inescapable. Of this, Loki was sure.

So he lied.

Just as his older self predicted. It was that or certain chains and a sealed fate. The fewer who knew the looser fate’s grasp would be, surely. “She… manipulated me with the help of Luke’s knowledge.”

“How could Luke know more than she?” Thor frowned down at him.

“I--” Shrugging weakly, Loki sighed. “I don’t know. He is… something very unpleasant.”

There was iron in Thor’s voice as he clenched a fist. “And he shall get something nastier than he could dream in return for his transgressions.”

“Yes…” Loki mumbled, his cheeks flushed with hot shame. It was good Thor was too busy feigning busting Luke’s,  _ Loki’s _ , head to notice.

Jane finally releasing Darcy, the two women looked to them; more specifically to Thor. Jane spoke, “how’d you even know that Enchantress lady was here?”

Remembering Tony’s stricken face, Loki winced. Had the older Loki stricken Potts to hurt Tony? It seemed that Thor remembered as well because he tensed up and let go of Loki’s shoulder. “San Francisco… I must aid our friends.” He looked to Loki, eyes serious. “Could you keep them safe until I return?”

The request prompted protest from Jane before Loki himself could do so. “Him?!”

“ _ Me?  _ Thor, are you sure-”

Already moving towards the door, Thor scoffed. “Of course I am! You are more than capable of defending them against any threats that should arise. And I doubt any shall in my short absence.” He turned to Jane, face softening. “I would not leave you with someone whom I had no faith in. Trust me, Jane.”  _ Trust him _ , were the words that went unspoken,  _ trust Loki _ . It seemed that Thor was bent on attacking him with kind words; words Loki didn’t deserve but cherished anyway.

He could be good. He could change this,  _ him _ . If he merely tried harder.

Summoning a grin, Loki strode to stand beside the two women, all too aware of how Foster watched him cautiously. “Aye, trust him. You are in the safest of hands.”

Thor laughed from the doorway. “I wouldn’t go that far, brother. But your enthusiasm is encouraging. I shall return.”

Relenting, Jane dropped to a bed and waved at Thor as he swept away. She grabbed her laptop, resolutely not looking at Loki. Darcy, on the other hand, had no such reservations. She pointed at the shattered window that poured in cold air. “Can you fix that?”

It would eat away more of his meager energy, his sutures already strained. But the air that whistled through it sent both the girls shivering. Sighing internally, Loki raised a hand. “Verily.” Glass shards sprang from the floor, reassembling themselves as the panes of the window. Loki grimaced as he felt more blood run down his abdomen. Dropping to the bed opposite Jane, he chanced a glance down at his wound.

“You’re bleeding again.” Jane had looked up from her laptop, frowning at the growing bloodstain on Loki’s green undershirt. 

“Oh dear, I hadn’t noticed.” Loki smirked as she scoffed with annoyance.  _ Surely a few petty jabs couldn’t hurt. _ There wasn’t much more he could do for his bleeding now, save watch it carefully. With any luck, he’d stay conscious long enough for the Avengers to return. Though luck was famously not his greatest ally.

_ His shining future. _

Foster narrowed her eyes into a near glare. “I don’t trust you, no offense.”

Shrugging, Loki wondered what it was she typed so intently upon her laptop. “None taken. It’s a wise choice.” Perhaps she did know about his older self and was conspiring to bring S.H.I.E.L.D. down upon him. Not that S.H.I.E.L.D. could hold him for long if he wished to be free. “Unfortunately for both of us, Thor has chosen differently.” Her frown deepened as she considered him. She certainly was stubborn. “I can see why Thor is fond of you.”

Jane made to reply but Darcy, who dropped down directly next to Loki, interrupted. “That color real or’d you dye it?” She picked at his hair.

Stunned to inaction, Loki let her.  _ Did she always act this way or had he addled her brain on accident and the others were too afraid to tell him?  _ Jane’s non-reaction lent credence to the first option. “I-- what- it’s my hair. Why would you-”

“Well, you’re rocking like a…” She waved her fingers at him. “Emo space viking vibe. Couldn’t be sure.”

“I’m not-- what does that word even mean?” Loki jerked away as she reached for his face. As good as he was determined to be, he was not putty. Unable to hold his tongue any longer he looked to Foster for help. “Is she always like this?” The wickedly amused smile he received in return was answer enough.

“Hey, I’m right here!” Biting her lip, the maddeningly nonchalant woman looked him up and down without shame. She seemed to have none of Foster’s qualms about his reputation. Loki gravitated between being insulted or relieved by this. “I can totally see teen you wearing too much eyeliner and black nail polish and crying in your room.”

Insulted, definitely. Except, he was trying to be good, and would Thor bite back?  _ No. _ Loki forced a smile and bit at the inside of his cheek. “You’re quite blunt with your opinions, aren’t you?”

Jane laughed suddenly. “It’s her most endearing trait.” Some of the suspicion left her eyes as she seemed to reassess Loki. “I thought you’d be… I don’t know, pricklier?”

Yet again he deceived people. He should have chosen a sullen silence to avoid more hurt. But that ship had left port and he had to live with his decisions. “Is it the horns? They do lend a certain aesthetic, don’t they?”

Jane and Darcy laughed, continuing to question him free of worries.

This was exhausting. But when the alternative had stared him in the face and told him he couldn’t change, what more could he do? He could deal with a bit of exhaustion.


	4. 4: Anger

The tower was far too overcrowded, too tight, nearly airless. Loki had mustered the strength to greet their guests but every second around them was an agonizing eternity. And when he had slipped away his quarters offered no respite for it was not only his quarters but  _ his  _ too.

And so he fled to a shattered corner of Midgard where he could finally breathe.

Loki watched a tuft of ragged grass blow in the steady wind that whistled through the secluded mountain range. Low grey clouds rolled above him, near close enough to touch. The silence of the world seemed absolute. The mountain peaks that rose high into the cold air closed him in a box.

But a box of thick stone would be far preferable to the one he found himself in now.

His laughter echoed back at him, a maddening bitter sound.

Dried blood still caked his hands and flaked in the wind as he clawed it away in a desperate attempt to cleanse himself. Desperate and futile. He could no sooner wipe away his blood than he could his fate, it seemed. Both drew him into his box, both reminded him of the place he made and chose in the story. Both damned him.

He wished to pace, to scream, to move and  _ act _ . But he’d been here before. He’d paced Asgard’s halls as its unwanted king until his feet had bled and his mind had been filled with accusations that still sounded all too reasonable. He had screamed, he had screamed in that Void for none to hear but the Titan’s lackeys. He’d screamed until his throat ran raw and whatever fresh agony the Titan concocted left him empty and numb. He acted, he fought and laughed against the Avengers and with them; all it had done was lead him here, to this moment. And the next and the next until his  _ future  _ would be present. 

There was nothing he could do, inevitability crept its grim way through him.

Wind twisted his hair into knots that Loki tugged at, not caring how pain shot through his skull as he did. Amora’s comment leapt to mind and he laughed at himself.  _ Caring about looks now of all times _ , he prodded,  _ what are you, a trembling bride? _ Freeing his fingers from the ever increasing mat, Loki snatched a rock from the cliff beside him and hurled it into the sky until it fell far out of sight. He winced at the sight of dark, old blood under his nails.

His wound stung, its sutures tighter but still temporary. His body ached for rest to find itself, to heal, to stop thinking for even a single blissful moment. That he could not give it even that curdled his stomach and made his mouth taste of ash.

_ If there was nothing to be done then what point was there of continuing this charade,  _ he proposed as a hawk flew by. Why extend the agony of uncertainty, the dance of the lie, any longer than needed? Was it the thrill of the attempt? Or perhaps the suspense some tiny, hateful, detestable part of him revelled in.

Loki sucked in an unsteady breath and soaked in the coolness of the air within him, fresh and alive and clean, so unlike the air of the tower or the city that surrounded it. For a moment he experienced something resembling clarity.

He could not pace, or scream, or fight for those actions would lead to naught but the inevitable. But if he could play well enough the tune that the team wove for him perhaps the inevitable could wait moments longer.

 

**00000**

 

To Tony’s intense relief, Pepper and Happy were unhurt by what the papers were already calling the ‘San Fran incident.’ Weird thing was, there hadn’t been anybody there to attack them in the first place. Just a forcefield around the complex that had been broken when Thor came flying out of nowhere and burst straight through it. Not that Tony was taking any chances. He’d ordered Happy take a two week vacation somewhere remote. He’d called up Rhodey to make sure his War Machine armor was always nearby, no way he was taking chances about his friends. Pepper, Tony didn’t want to leave her side. Her presence was a welcome comfort in the tower that was technically hers.

A sentiment that was hard to come by anywhere else. Though guests had brought out the civility in the team (Tony hadn’t had to push Clint’s feet off the table during meals in days) the lingering threat of Luke and Amora hung over them like a shroud. The pair were pretty much untraceable even to Loki.

Then there was the God of Mischief himself, acting stranger than ever. Again. He’d looked like death warmed over when they’d picked him up in Greenland, covered in his own blood, sickly pale, haggard. And while he’d cleaned up, he never lost the hard lines of stress around his eyes; they stayed even while he grinned away jokes at his own expense. That in itself was eerie. He took most jabs without a snappy retort, despite the fact he clearly wished to give one, he didn’t even jump at the opportunity to embarrass Tony, one of his favorite pastimes. Tony’d practically gift wrapped a few of the jokes himself, but the god didn’t bite. Loki knew something, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell.

And it was pissing Tony off.

He hoped, though, that tonight might change things. As soon as Darcy, a women who gave him a run for his hyperactive money, had found out none of the Asgardians had seen the Lord of the Rings movies, she demanded a movie night, complete with “wine and stuff” as she put it. Tony was happy to oblige, they needed a break to turn off their brains for a while. He provided the movie and the wine, along with assorted other drinks. Darcy brought a tub of nail polish and a frankly frightening glint of determination in her eyes. Clint, the pizza and popcorn. And, much to everyone's surprise and the Asgardians delight, Loki produced an intricately twisted bottle of crystal clear liqueur. It hissed and sparkled with a rainbow of colors as Loki poured a glass for Thor.

The blonde god smiled fondly at his brother. “Many thanks. I was not aware you had any of this left.” Thor dropped to the couch beside Jane, who’d already been jumped by Darcy and had one hand painted bright blue.

Handing a second glass to Sif, Loki replied without a smile. “I didn’t.  _ Don’t  _ ask how I procured more. Just accept the gift.”

Thor laughed. “For this, I shall.”

Tony inched closer to the bottle, intensely curious. Despite Thor’s love of telling drunk tales of his past, he’d never actually seen any of the gods so much as tipsy. Thor always said their drinks were too weak. And already having watched Loki down bottles of his nicest whiskey in a ‘ _ scientific experiment _ ’ to test the declaration, Tony was inclined to believe. “So… what’s in it?”

Glancing over, Loki held his glass up to the light. The liqueur sparkled in purples and greens. “A concoction of my own making. I believe you’d call it… punch? Obviously not  _ your  _ average fair, though.”

Sif sipped her drink, grinning. “Loki was always the greatest among us at  _ this  _ venture.”

The corners of Loki’s mouth twitched up and he paused. “Well, I realized very early that the way to an Aesir’s heart was through their cup. That and the lot of you combined have less delicacy than I do in one hand.” He held up another glass as Thor laughed, and called out for Steve, who was watching Natasha pick over Darcy’s horde of nail polish. “Would you care for one, Rogers? I believe your metabolism could handle the stuff.”

A spike of jealousy shot through Tony as Steve smiled and shrugged. “Why not? Hand it over.”

Obviously and inevitably, Loki noticed Tony’s staring. “I shan’t have you slip into a coma just because of a bit of our drink. Imagine what that would do to my conscious.” Despite his light hearted tone, the hard lines never left Loki’s eyes.

Sighing, Tony relented and shoved Bruce over to get his favorite spot. “What conscious?”

Loki said nothing, though he blinked overlong. He took a seat next to Darcy, who practically pulled him down. “I--” He glanced at the small dark bottle Darcy held out and seemed to consider it for a second. “Fine.” Darcy took one of his hands as the other balanced his drink.

Slightly shocked by his willingness to play along, Tony laughed as Darcy unscrewed the black nail polish and got to work. “What’s up with you, man?” It wasn’t how he planned on tackling the subject but the words just slipped out.

But his question didn’t seem to trip Loki up in the slightest as the god took a slow sip of his drink. “I do have manners, Anthony. You forget my upbringing.”

“Yeah, sure, you might be a fancy prince but that’s never stopped you from talking out of your ass before.” He hoped to get a reaction out of Loki. Something,  _ anything _ .

And he almost did as a scowl flickered briefly across Loki’s face. But the god smothered it and went to watching Darcy work.

“See! That’s what I’m talking about. The Loki I know would’ve destroyed me there.” Tony raised his voice enough to get the attention of the rest of the team, all of who now watched him. All he wanted was an explanation. Loki stared at him with the hint of a brittle glare, his lip curling.

Pepper laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Tony, not now.” She spoke loud enough for the rest of the team to hear and earned a few tight, nervous smiles in doing so. Once the movie started and attention was diverted, she muttered in his ear. “Wait until he gets a glass or two deep.”

Gazing fondly at her, Tony smiled. “What would I do without you?” In the background, the ringwraiths leered over the hobbits.

Light from the scene lit Pepper’s face dimly, though enough for him to see her wry smile. “Crash and burn, probably.”

“Hey!” His exclamation earned a silencing shush from Natasha. Slowly, his worries melted under the glow of the television and the reassuring company. Sometime during the battle of Helm’s Deep, Bruce’s briefly vacant seat was stolen by an escapee Loki, who’d snuck his way from Darcy’s grasp. Tony spotted the gleam of fresh polish on his nails. “So, how long till someone dares Clint he can’t surf Steve’s shield down a flight of stairs and hit a bullseye at the same time?”

Loki snickered. It was an uncommon sound of late. “An hour; less if I get another one of these.” He clinked his nails against his second nearly empty glass. “In Rogers.”

Now this was closer to the Loki Tony knew. Maybe that fancy liqueur had loosened Loki’s tongue enough to let Tony in on what he was hiding. “He’ll fall on his face.”

“Oh, most assuredly.” Loki’s eyes glimmered with imagined mischief. “I’m aching to see his attempt.”

_ There he was _ . Tony smirked. “Yes or yes, you’ll let me taste that drink o’ yours, now?”

Loki glanced away from the battle and down to his drink. He seemed to consider the possibility. Then, without missing a beat, he downed the rest of it. An involuntary shiver ran through him that even Tony could see. “A fine attempt, Anthony. But my will is of iron or some other aptly durable metal.”

“Vibranium,” Tony supplied, mock helpfully.

As Gandalf topped the hill, Loki scoffed. “What has he even accomplished to earn his title? I’ve seen naught but illusions.” There was definitely a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“He beat the Balrog?”

Loki rolled his eyes.

Jane leaned over from across Thor. “He came back from the dead.”

“Amateurish.” Obviously anticipating a rebuttal from Thor, Loki prematurely cut him down. “And, brother, I kid. Clearly.” Tony saw the hard lines around Loki’s eyes as a scowl passed momentarily across his face.

Pausing the movie, Clint pegged Loki with a kernel of popcorn. “If you’re so unimpressed, oh great wizard, then show us some ‘ _ real _ ’ magic.”

Loki balked; Tony couldn’t tell if he was faking his apprehension or not. “My abilities are not party tricks. I did not devote hundreds of my precious years to--”

The lights of the room brightened as Thor leapt up, pulling Loki with him. “And yet, I have seen you do just so many a time. Amaze us, brother!” Thor, smiling wide, kept his hands firm on Loki’s arms even as he squirmed. “I shan’t release you until--”

“Ah, you barbarians drive a hard bargain. Fine, fine!” As Thor released Loki, Tony saw him blushing. Not drunk. But definitely a little tipsy. Loki set down his empty glass and smirked.

Before he could do anything, Tony leaned over to whisper in Pepper’s ear. “He talks big but--”

“But he can’t deliver. Can’t say I’m...” Pepper whispered back. Even as she did, Loki swept his hand towards the wide, dark, plate windows, which began to glow. An image spiraled across them until they showed a canopy of pine trees. Tony imagined he could smell the sap.

Then he realized there was nothing imaginary about it as a raven-like creature nearly the size of his arm with opal eyes swooped into the room and landed on the coffee table. It opened its beak to reveal a thin line of tiny, sharp, almost sharklike teeth; and it let out a broken caw that rattled the ice in Tony’s glass. The creature took off, flying low over all of their heads; Pepper grabbed tight on Tony’s arm as it’s long silver talons came within inches of them. The bird landed on Loki’s shoulder. He scratched its head then, without warning, spun and, in an effect that tricked Tony’s eyes into thinking he’d blinked too long, Loki transformed into a doppleganger of the bird. Both birds circled each other before colliding midair in a explosions of blues and greens and glitter that Tony groaned at. Loki landed lightly on the coffee table, next to Mjolnir, in a bow as the illusion out the window, or portal, Tony wasn’t entirely sure, dissolved and left them in the lit room again. A round of applause burst out even as the glitter settled to a probably permanent home in Tony’s carpet.

Tony grinned at Pepper’s openmouthed smile. “Nah, actually, he’s the real deal. Don’t ever tell him I said that.”

At the team’s ever increasingly complex requests, Loki performed. He practically beamed under the compliments showered on him. Tony felt a weird sense of pride and some definite relief. Maybe after this Loki would feel up to sharing his secrets. Maybe Tony had just been paranoid. 

After dyeing Darcy’s hair a rainbow of different colors and settling it back to brown Loki pulled Pepper from her seat effortlessly and smirked. “Any requests?”

Pepper laughed, blushing. She grinned back at Tony. “Er… I’m not really the creative one here.”

“Nonsense! Anyone who could survive wrangling that man,” Loki winked at Tony, “for as long as you surely must have some interesting things in her head.”

“Jerk,” Tony shot.

Loki’s smile flickered for a half second but he seemed too into the moment to stop. When Pepper stammered, he waved a hand towards the far wall. “Well, how about…”

The first thing that appeared, without fanfare, was an image of a slender, blonde haired woman in a short green dress. Loki’s smile flickered and died as the woman smiled viciously. Jane and Darcy squeaked.

Tense, Tony looked to Loki, who had released Pepper and taken a step back. “Hey, what--”

“That’s-- I did not make her, that is actually--” Loki’s face went pale, his eyes wide. The other Asgardians stood abruptly.

“ _ Amora? _ ” Tony jumped up, pulling Pepper behind him.

Amora crossed her arms and laughed at the shocked faces of the team. “Oh, goodie, the world famous Avengers, in the flesh!” She deflected a burst of green energy sent her way by Loki. “That’s rude, sweetie. I was talking.”

Tony glanced towards Natasha. She met his eyes and drove her hand between the couch cushions, procuring a pistol which she threw his way while she pulled out her own from under her jacket. Catching it, Tony silently thanked her paranoia. He squeezed Pepper’s hand reassuringly.

Thunder rumbled outside as Thor swiped Mjolnir from where it laid on the coffee table. “Amora, stand down and you may yet survive this.”

Steve beckoned for Jane and Darcy to get behind him, the two women complied in breathless silence.

“Oh, I do plan on it, Odinson.” Amora winked at Thor without a shred of fear. “But  _ I’m  _ not here for a fight. My… business partner.” She looked pointedly at Loki. “Suggested a different approach. He’s got personal experience, after all.” Throwing her arm up, Amora pointed towards Bruce and sent off a glitter of green that struck him directly in the face.

Tony immediately scrambled back, pulling Pepper along with him. The rest of the team followed suit as Bruce blinked away the glitter with a small frown. Trying to keep his voice level, Tony called out. “Bruce, Bruce whatever she did-- you need to stay calm!”

Shaking his head slowly and methodically, Bruce kept his frown and stood. “I… she-- I can’t…” Shuddering, Bruce fell to the ground.

“Get back!” Barking orders, Steve shoved Jane and Darcy towards the elevator as he leapt over a couch, away from Bruce. Clint and Natasha followed him over, keeping their pistols aimed squarely on the convulsing Bruce.

Heart pounding, Tony ran with Pepper towards the elevator as a roar ripped through the tower and stone crunched as the Hulk won over. He heard Thor shout over the roars. “Banner! You mus--  _ uhf _ !” Tony flinched but dared not turn around as he ushered the girls into the elevator.

Pepper grabbed him by the collar. “Tony, be careful! I--aah!” She flinched as Sif was thrown into the wall next to them, crumbling stone around her. 

“Jarvis, get them out of here!” Releasing Pepper’s hand as the elevator doors closed, Tony turned to face the team. 

The Hulk swatted at Thor, who parried his fists with Mjolnir. Steve, who had snatched his shield from where it rested, stood in front of Clint and Natasha, protecting them as they fired at Amora and tried to calm down Bruce. Loki who’d frozen at the sight of Hulk, finally moved as Thor shoved him out of the way. Sif shrugged off the crumbling stone and looked to Tony. “How shall you fight?”

Cursing himself for not preparing a suit, Tony waggled his pistol. “This. Can’t hurt the big guy but…” Amora burst off spells towards Steve. “Her, on the other hand.” As Sif grinned, Tony aimed towards the blonde Enchantress. He fired and watched as Amora stumbled, his bullet piercing her upper thigh in a spurt of blood. She turned towards him, fury sparking in her eyes. “Hey, lady, nobody messes- _ eEP! _ ” Amora rushed him with unnatural speed, hand outstretched claw-like. Sif leapt in front of him, taking the brunt of Amora’s spell and was blown aside where she lay, unmoving as smoke curled off her.

Tony’s heart skipped a beat.

Amora twisted her hand and the pistol yanked itself out of Tony’s grasp. He could feel the power rolling off of her in waves. _ Asgardian. Right. Not just a pretty face.  _ She grabbed him by the collar and Tony felt his body go limp as she raised him into the air. He fought against the numbness, staring down at her. “You,” she snapped.

His voice cracked. “Yep.  _ Little--  _ little ol’ me.” If only he had his suit.  _ Stupid. _ Stupid.

Scratching one of her nails against his face, leaving a stinging line, Amora hissed over the sound of the Hulk. Her forcefield deflected Clint and Natasha’s fire. “He  _ really  _ hates you lot. Won’t shut up about it. Typical. Cannot grow up to save his life.”

“What?”  _ What the hell was she talking about?  _ Luke? He’d never even met Luke.

“But I’m not supposed to kill you. Though, maybe…” Her scowl disappeared, replaced by a nasty smirk.  _ That wasn’t good.  _ Suddenly, Tony felt his numb body jump to life as Amora dropped him. He stared at his hands as they moved without his control.

Tony’s heart pounded. Not good. Very not good. “Hey, no!” He stood. It felt like strings pulled him along as his head turned away from Amora. Fighting to take back his body, Tony felt like he was floating in a cloud. He saw Loki dodge away from the Hulk and focus in on Tony and Amora. 

A look of horror, immediately overcome by fury, crossed Loki’s face. Tony saw him rush towards them, ducking under a swipe from Hulk, and felt his own body move in before Amora. Loki crashed into Tony, sending him sprawling. As Tony struggled to stand, and struggled to not, he saw Loki and Amora exchange blows, magic fizzled at both their fingertips and exploded in sparks of greens and golds. They practically danced. Loki snarled at Amora. “Let him go!”

Amora laughed, twirling on her good leg away from a bursting explosion. “Fat chance! He’s got potential. And if you knew--”

“I don’t want to  _ know  _ anything h--” Stuttering, Loki jumped to avoid the stone decaying beneath him. “He isn’t--”

“Give up, Loki! He’s trying to help you!”

“Lies!” Loki sounded strained even as he denied her.

Tony stood, reaching out. He saw Amora’s eyes glitter with malice and heard her disconnected whisper in his ear even as her lips stayed curled in a snarl.  _ “Be a good boy, now.”  _ His body leapt towards Loki, throwing off his dance and tripping him up. Fighting harder against his puppetry, Tony tried to grab at Amora. He felt his fingertips tingle and move of his own volition. 

Stumbling, Loki glared at Tony. There were tears in his eyes. Whatever Amora was talking about, it was getting to him. Loki grabbed Tony by the shoulders and shoved him away. Tony felt more of the strings controlling him snap as if cut by scissors. Out of step now, Loki fought to fall back into Amora’s stride. “Why do you believe him?”

“Think about it, Loki. The only person you truly care about is yourself! You think it was easy to get this far? He told me!” Amora snatched Loki’s wrist and pulled him towards her. Tony could hear the sizzle of burning flesh. “They!” She spun Loki towards Tony, who felt more of his strings snapping and took an unsteady step towards her. “Only disappoint you! Abandon you!”

The tears in Loki’s eyes threatened to overflow as he tugged against Amora’s grip. “No!”

Tony was so close now. If he could just--

Scowling, Amora kicked him back, knocking the air clean from him and shattering the spell. Even as Tony struggled to breathe, he heard her shout at Loki. “I’ll let him tell you, then!” When Tony finally looked up, the gods were gone. 

_ Shit _ . Seconds later, glass shattered and Tony felt his armor wrapping around him as Jarvis kicked into gear. “Ms. Potts sends her regards.”

Furious and finally armed, Tony turned back to the fight between Thor and the Hulk.  “Let’s shut this party down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's funny how a chapter that started as an excuse to write a fun movie night morphed into something wholly integral to the plot over the months spent on this thing


	5. 5: Warped Perspectives

Amora dropped Loki before he could get his bearings. Though he fell to a familiar carpet, the one of his old apartment. Loki’s body revolted against the teleportation, worse than usual. The liqueur _,_ _damn him he never should have brought that out._ Black boots stepped into view and sent cold shivers down his spine. If he simply didn’t look, he wouldn’t have to face the truth. _It-- he-- was not real unless--_

“C’mon, kid. I’m not the one to be frightened of.” Magic forced Loki’s head up. Old Loki grinned at him, his cool eyes vicious. “That’s a lie. But  _ you  _ knew that already.” Leaning against a couch, the older Loki imitated a line Loki had heard so many times from Odin, “boy, I am disappointed in your reckless and selfish behavior; it is unbefitting of a prince to act as you have today.” The old Loki dropped the accent and pulled Loki to a stand. Loki wanted nothing more than to pull away but the grip of his elder self was firm. “No? A little too familiar? Well, he was the first of many to toss us aside. I cannot blame you should those wounds still bleed fresh.” He grinned. “If it’s any consolation, they do heal. Unfortunately at this point I have so many others- well… you’ll understand.” Enveloping Loki in a hug, there was certain mockery in his voice.

Shoving him off, Loki stumbled back. The old apartment was still resplendent under its enchantments. “Get-- I’m leaving.” Despite Loki’s best efforts, his spells made no traction. They fizzled and died in his hands prematurely. His seidr slipped through his metaphorical fingers like water. This was an inescapable nightmare.  _ He  _ was that nightmare. “Wh--” Loki’s voice cracked. “Why?”

“Impatient. And do you even want to know,” Old Loki tutted.

_ No. _ Loki had the sense that knowing would only further damn him. But he had to find a crack in whatever blanket spell his older self had laid over the premises. And for that he needed time. “Tell me.”

A short pause, then a sigh. “You want a hint?” Loki nodded. The sheer strength of the spell old Loki had concocted stretched the limits of imagination.  _ When had that happened? What more could he do? _ Old Loki’s words snapped Loki back. “People do what they do best: leave us. Again and again,” now there was real malice in his voice. Bitterness too.

The idea repulsed Loki. It was what Amora had echoed. What he couldn’t believe. There were those who cared.  _ The team, surely they cared. _ “You lie.” 

“Do I?” Two words. Two words to plant that doubt. “They used us, little Loki. They’re using you right now. And then they left us. Left me, will leave you.” Loki found no lie in his words, only cold, harsh reality.

_ They left him. _ Why? “Why? I-- I  _ changed _ ,” the word stuck in his throat. “I thought I had changed enough. I tried, genuinely! I am  _ trying _ \--” The room spun. Loki realized, for the first time, an incense burned. Sweet vanilla. An old favorite. What Frigga’s hair had smelled like when she wove tales for him at night, so long ago. Back when his greatest worries had been beating Thor to breakfast.

The very realm danced on a wire and Loki felt himself tugged along its taut edge, fearing its inevitable snap.

“Do not blame us,” old Loki sighed. “They’re the ones who decided that attempted change wasn’t enough. That  _ I  _ wasn’t enough. You too.”

How?  _ Didn’t they understand how difficult it was to change? _ Something akin to anger flickered to life within him.  _ After all he’d suffered-- _ Light glinted off the black on Loki’s nails. No. They had to care. He carried proof. “You’re wrong. They wouldn’t.” He glared at his older self, who glowered.

“They would. Save yourself the extra heartache and believe me.” The older Loki sounded more annoyed than anything. His worn hands shredded the fine fabrics of the couch he perched upon.

As if standing watch, Amora stood between them. Blood leaked from her thigh, though she seemed, or pretended, not to notice.

Loki desperately wished she would leave. She had no right to his story. Again, he glanced down to his hands. The polish was a bit messy, as most things done in the dark tended to be. But it was real. As were his  _ friends _ . “You hurt me.”

“I hurt you because I love,” old Loki pouted. “And it was a regrettable necessity to ensure you were ready. And our reputation for self mutilation is rather legendary.”

Glaring, Loki jerked again away from his older self. “You’re a liar.”

Taking a deep breath, old Loki stood to his full height. He lost the aged stoop of his shoulders. It made Loki wonder if that was just an act. “Duh. But so are you,  _ kid _ . And enough people have lied to us. I wouldn’t do it to you.” Disappointment clear, old Loki shook his head. “You’ve forced my hand. I cannot tell you that I’ll enjoy this.” With his next step, Loki’s older self disappeared. It looked as if he had merely stepped behind an invisible wall. At first, Loki didn’t even register what he’d done as teleportation.

When Loki did, he turned on Amora, panic in his throat. “Where did he go?”

She shrugged. “You’re him, not me.”

The oppressive blanket spell that kept the pair of them grounded lifted. Loki felt a physical weight fall from his shoulders. The Hulk. His friends. He had to get back. “Amora!”

She danced from his grasp, limping slightly on her bleeding leg. “I’ve got a spa appointment soon and I simply cannot be late. Sorry, sweetie.” With a flash, she disappeared.

And Loki was alone. His friends needed him. Yet, he hesitated. Part of him wanted to flush with shame over how long it took him to remember the real danger they were in. _ But…  _ not a word his older self spoke had been untrue; that, he could feel in his bones. _ His friends. His shining future. _ Why did both phrases fill him with similar dread? And where had his older self gone?

 

**00000**

 

The gardens of Asgard sprawled out before Loki as he stepped from the husk of an oak, ancient even when he had been but a boy. A gardener passed mere paces from him, oblivious in her single mindedness. He walked, unseen, through the garden’s winding paths. Flowers laden the trees in glorious varied colors and perfumed the air so heavily that it could only be the work of the Queen’s tender hand. Never had the garden smelled quite the same after Frigga’s passing. After she left the flowers,  _ him _ , alone. The garden had paled and fallen under Thor’s clumsy rule, despite the years Loki had wasted trying to keep it afloat. But here it was in its greatest glory.

Bitterly, he plucked a cobalt lily from its stem. The bloom seemed to wilt in his hand. Crushing it, he wiped its remnants away but cobalt still stained his palm. It would pass. Nothing was forever.  _ Nothing _ .

In his gut Loki felt drawn as he rarely had before. Even this existence could not last for it threatened the nature of all things. His younger self clearly felt it; the tugging inevitably stretching his being to a thinly spread existence. The realms creaked under the weight of the two of them.

And he was glad. For when this ended the two of them would break that delicate balance as they were meant to. As they were needed to.

“Who goes there,” an achingly familiar voice called out, clever and calm in equal measure. Loki turned. Frigga stood a hair's breadth from him. She held out a cautious hand and it passed directly through his torso. Had his chest not been hollow, he wondered if his heart would have stopped.

Loki stepped back and allowed his body to become definite enough to touch. He whispered to her, letting his age melt from his voice until he sounded like her Loki. “Mother.”

She relaxed in an instant and smiled; a sight long lost. “Loki, my son, what are you doing here?”

Taking her hands in his, Loki cherished her smile even through his emptiness. He missed her.  _ He missed her so deeply the very Nine Realms felt dead and empty without her. _ He--  _ She left him _ . She was not worthy of being missed. “Do you remember the first time you caught me in these gardens?” He cooed, voice a perfect replica of the foolish younger prince back on Midgard.

Her laughter was the sweetest sound.

_ No. It was a liar’s tool from a betrayer’s throat. _ And nobody lied to him anymore.

“You were hiding from the instructor I assigned to you,” she said softly. “In that tree.” The ancient oak drooped under the weight of its years. “Should memory serve.”

“It took you hours to coax me down,” Loki added, spinning all of his anger into false love. “And a promise. Do you remember what it was?”

She squeezed his hands. Hers were a warm blanket against his. “To teach you myself and to never leave you alone with ‘ _ self important patronizing elitists _ ’ as I believe you called them.” There was such fondness in her voice.

It came dangerously close to tricking him into believing her lies. But he knew more than to let his heart get the better of him. He pulled roughly away. “Aye, that I did. And you, as would become typical, covered a lie in an easy to fulfill truth.” He allowed malice to creep into his voice and dropped his faux-youth cadence.

Malice that she picked up on as he knew she would. Frigga took a short step back. “Loki, what do you speak of? Come out of the shadows.”

“Oh, do you not  _ trust  _ me?” As Loki spoke, he dropped his illusion and stood before her. He reveled in the quick flashes of fear and uncertainty that mired her once serene features. “Do you not recognize me, mother?”

Frigga’s hand itched towards her side; no doubt where she stored a hidden dagger.  _ How telling.  _ “What are you?”

“Well, I’m your dear, sweet, beautiful, youthful, youngest son, of course.” He grinned wide, knowing she saw none of those things. “Give or take a few thousand years.” Her gaze, rightfully horrified as it was, never wavered. “But you, mother, are not who I wish to speak with. I desire an audience with dear old dad; to speak one  _ king  _ to another.” With a flourish he dipped into a mock bow. When she didn’t respond, he drew back up. “Must I find him myself? I certainly  _ can  _ but I had hoped you’d be a bit more hospitable. It is with hopes of a bright future for us all that I orchestrated this visit.”

Frigga sucked in a breath and stood tall, reeling in the fear flitting cross her face until she was royal in demeanor again, cold and distant. When she next spoke, she possessed little of her previous affection, “you take Loki’s visage but I do not believe your words.” Guards rushed to her side, alerted by his foreign presence.

Rolling his eyes, Loki widened his grin to something wolfish. “The sweetest lies are those we tell ourselves.” He turned to the Einherjar, with their weapons drawn. They actually thought they could stop him.  _ Hilarious _ . “I, Loki Laufeyson, king of Jotunheim and Midgard in a time yet to come, request a peaceful audience with the Allfather. It would delight me for you to oblige.”

The Einherjar looked to Frigga, who finally turned her gaze from him. She sighed and nodded. “Do as he says,” her voice was weary.

_ Good. _ Baring his teeth, Loki bowed to her again, low enough for his body to protest the action. “Wonderous! You shan’t regret this, mother.”

The Aesir guards, led by a silent Frigga, marched Loki through the shimmering halls of the palace. Servants and scholars stared as they passed. Loki made sure to match every gaze and grinned until they cowed away. Asgard’s crown jewel was just as he remembered.  _ Truly the land of the gods was a static paradise. _ And another gorgeous lie, spoonfed to its residents since birth. Once he had been among them. No longer.

There, atop the throne, sat the ruler of that lie. Odin. A name and face that had once inspired the deepest anger and unspeakable fear that beat deep in his chest. That chest was now hollow in a time he shouldn’t be and all he felt were quashable flutterings of long dead anger. And now Loki saw Odin as he was; an old man, his grip on his once formidable power weakening even as he gazed haughtily down at Loki. “What is this?” Odin directed his inquiry towards Frigga and the guards.

But Loki answered, ever so diplomatically. “ _ This _ is your youngest son and ruler of two realms. I’d think you, of all people, could speak to me as a king deserves. The Norns know dear king Thor has mostly resorted to cursing my miserable existence at this point. He always was so boorish.”

Odin’s single eye betrayed no surprise. “I see no son of mine before me.”

Sucking in a breath, Loki gasped in mock hurt. “Ouch, dad.” He smirked. “Kidding. Can’t hit a dog with the same stick twice before it learns to bite back.” 

His non-reaction itself seemed to rattle the king. “You share my son’s appearance and love of crafted insults but you speak strangely.”

“I suppose a few hundred years among Midgardians will do that to a god. Their manner of speech is… rather infectious.”  He took a few steps towards Odin, ignoring the nervousness of the guards around him. “Call upon Heimdall if thee dispute my claims. Despite my liar’s reputation, I speak nothing but the truth on this day, father.”

Odin shifted in his throne; Loki swore there was pain in his single eye. “No need. I see thy truth, old Trickster. What cause have you split the passage of time to tout before me in such a manner?”

“Only what matters most. Can you guess what that is?”

For a moment Odin regarded him with the hint of a glare. “What you care for most is thyself.”

Loki winked, pleased. It’d been so long since he’d had a conversation with his not-father, he’d almost forgotten what a proper king of Asgard acted like. “Ding! Correct.” Now here was a mind to contend with. “But  _ you  _ care for Asgard. And it is on  _ her  _ behalf that I speak this day. My needs are… related, of course. Again, I do not lie.”

“Obviously.” A short word and nothing more as Odin stared him down. They locked eyes. It made him practically giddy.  _ How long had it been since he’d faced a proper foe on the mental battleground? _ Thor was worthless in that field. And his younger self had yet to learn discipline in the area, though his raw talent occasionally shone through.  _ But he’d get there _ , Loki was assuring that. Odin searched his face, his eyes. Likely for signs of remorse, or a flicker of his weaker, younger self. Loki stared back confidently, knowing there was none to be found, that any such weakness he’d beat into submission. Finally, Odin sighed and his shoulders drooped ever so slightly. “What turned you to this creature that I see before me?”

Proud of his victory, Loki grinned and laid his bait “A string of events too numerous to recall in their entirety. But if you demand an answer… Midgard.” He watched as Odin cocked his head. Bait swallowed, Loki pressed on, securing his hooks as meticulously as a proud fisherman with a colossal catch on his line. “You thought that sending me to guard Midgard, a punishment for my grievous transgressions--” He laughed. “Child’s play. But I digress.” Beside Odin, Frigga winced. “Midgard was my punishment. Clearly you hoped the rock,  _ my rock  _ as it would come to pass, would beat humility or some similar sentiment into me, as it had to dear, young Thor. And, funny thing was…” Loki fiddled with one of his many rings. Trinkets of times long gone. Reminders of scorns. “It worked. As your plans tended to, in that time.”

Odin turned briefly to Frigga. Their faces were similar grim masks.

No reply forthcoming, Loki continued. They were eating this up just as he had hoped. “I learned real appreciation for my teammates and the land itself. Sure, the realm’s other inhabitants meant nothing, but who cared? Not I. Because I had surrounded myself with enough ‘ _ friends _ ’ to ignore what was essentially a realm sized cage and that my ‘ _ friends _ ’ were the chains binding me inside it. But see, here’s the thing about Midgardians.” He had to proceed carefully, he could feel old anger curdling within his hollow breast.  _ That  _ anger was the last thing he needed in this moment. Loki shrugged. “Well, you know.”

True, as Odin nodded. Still, he said nothing.

“After that,  _ betrayal _ , and some others I need not mention, I returned home, to Asgard. But Midgard is infectious.  _ Midgardians  _ are infectious in their ways. And at every turn I found more ready to betray me and I realized my Midgard sentence for what it was, a cage to distract me and keep me placated with baubles and false hopes. And they call  _ me  _ the God of Lies. You do justice to that title just as well, Allfather.” Loki saw Odin’s grip tighten on Gungnir.  _ Careful, careful. _ He had to tread lightly. The last thing he wanted was to feel the sting of that infernal spear. Yet, though he was sure his trap was set, there was something cathartic about this. “I did my part, played the nice little prince. Put on a good face as those around me poked and prodded at the festering wounds Midgard left behind with little regard. I wrapped those wounds in isolation, books, and learning. Oh, did I  _ learn _ . I am here before you today because of my desperate searchings for greater and greater power.” Loki summoned a sparkling flame to dance across his fingertips. Behind him, Einherjar shifted their weapons in their sheathes. “Thor and I, we thwarted a good many sieges and attempts at the throne. A few proper assassination attempts passed by with no results because of our combined efforts. And, when Thor wasn’t hounding me for company or a return to Midgard: ‘ _ just for a day, Loki, please come with me;’ _ ” he reluctantly prepared for his ascension to the throne.”

Odin held up a hand. “Where does this tale lead?” Loki thought he heard sorrow in Odin’s voice.

_ But he knew better. _ “Where it had to. Where it always does. Death and ruin. With all hands sticky and heavy with blood that is not their own.” There, an idea properly planted in its pot. Now, all he had to do was ease the bloom. That was a mite trickier than a few clever words. Luckily, tricky was his business.

Even as he mused, Odin stood and pounded Gungnir against the polished floor. “I have heard enough. Old Trickster, thou may be a king in your time, and therefore out of my judgement. But this is  _ my  _ time and I hold sway over you here. For thy crimes yet to pass, I, Odin Allfather--”

“Too slow, dear dad.” Loki slipped through the fabric of the realm for a moment as he dodged the guards that attempted to shackle him. He reappeared, sitting on the arm of Asgard’s throne. Grinning in Odin’s stunned face, he winked. “The chat’s been nice but I’ve got to run. A king is a busy man, after all.” Pushing through reality for a second time, he reappeared holding Frigga’s hand in his. Before she could pull away, he kissed her hand in mock respect. “Toodles, mother of lies.”

The last he saw of her was a horrified grimace. A better representation than the final memory she had left him with in the future/past. 

Appearing again, on the edge of the shattered Bifrost, he waved to Heimdall, who had started at his sudden appearance. “Ah-- don’t mind me, gatekeeper.” As Heimdall raised his sword, Loki sighed and flicked his wrist. “I don’t relish this.” Loki watched as the gatekeeper’s limbs slowed, his eyes widened as what surely felt like thousands of hands closed in around him and held him in place. Taking a moment to admire his handiwork, Loki smiled at the unmoving gatekeeper.  _ One lie. This, he did enjoy. _ “Anyway, to work.”

The shattered Bifrost petered into sharp nothingness far before where it's observatory had once stood and would stand again. Thor had done quite the number on it all those eons ago. Though, in this time mere years had passed since that confrontation. Nevertheless, the damage was an open wound on Asgard’s skyline. Luckily, his strength surpassed its destruction, Loki knew that to be true.

Kneeling down, Loki scratched runes of a long lost tongue, known to him alone, into the pulsating bridge. He felt Heimdall’s eyes on his back as he prepared the spell. Normally, a spell of this caliber could take weeks to perform. But he was no normal sorcerer. Etching in the final rune, Loki stood, with some difficulty, and cracked his knuckles. He strung energy from deep within him, tapping into his seidr just as he had when he’d stepped into the stream of time and waded back. He pulled at the fabric of reality and felt it mold to his wishes, waiting to be made real by his whim. Nothing gave him deeper pleasure than this; his younger self would thank him once he got through to the willful child. With a final grin towards Heimdall, Loki slammed his foot down in the circle of ruins and shielded his eyes as a supernova of light and heat burst forth. His seidr pulled itself into the shape of his will until, reformed, the Bifrost and its observatory sat glimmering on the edge of oblivion. A better, grander observatory than had ever been.

“ _ Whew _ , what a big day this has been.” Dabbing sweat from his brow, Loki laughed for Heimdall’s sake. His hard work was paying off, he could feel it in his old bones. All he had to do now was wait for his younger self to get what was coming for him. This was the taste of sweet success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old Loki was an absolute delight to write


	6. 6: Exhaustion

“What do you mean you don’t know?! What did Amora do? Where’s Luke?” For the last two hours Loki listened to a barrage of questions and faced them with few answers. He wished to close his eyes and shut them out but each time he did the sense of falling from his taut wire returned.  _ Everything crumbled around him eventually, this team would be no different. _ His guilts, his fears, his  _ future _ . But they didn’t deserve that. And an angry little voice in his head told him that they wouldn’t even care should he tell them. 

It was their fault, after all. He couldn’t find a lie in his older self’s accusations.

Thor had shaken him roughly, demanding answers. And despite the concern clear in his eyes, Loki felt more the dull bruises on his arm left by Thor’s hands. “Please, brother, you must have some idea what they are planning.” Thor sported a nasty cut above his right eye that leaked blood into his brow.

Loki felt no inclination to heal it. Not have much thought to the wrecked floors below them. Shaking his head, Loki looked away. “Amora had a spa appointment,” he muttered lamely, knowing how it would annoy.

The statement coaxed an angry growl from Thor. “She-- what of Luke?”

_ Luke _ . Loki had to tell them. But the words stuck in his throat, suddenly thick. But a half-lie slid past with ease. “I know not. He’s… rather resentful.”

Leaning over him, Natasha raised an eyebrow. She had been displaying textbook interrogation techniques from the moment he’d returned, an unfortunately familiar song and dance. Not that he could blame her. “So, you know something about him. That’s new.” Her voice was cool and he momentarily met her gaze, sure to smooth his face. 

Running his hands over the smooth polish on his nails, Loki sighed. “It’s not a hard emotion to discern.”

“No… no it’s not.” Natasha narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

_ Shouldn’t have said anything,  _ a chastising voice in his head hissed, a _ rookie mistake, he was above those _ . Without flinching away from her gaze he wondered how she would betray him. “He speaks in riddles. I know not whether half his statements are true.” A lie, pretty though it was. “Or merely clever wordplay.” Closer to the truth. But he knew the difference between lies and manipulated truths when they came from his own mouth. Even with a few thousand years difference.

Tony rested a tender hand on Loki’s shoulder, making him jump as his mind hissed to flee. Leaning on the edge of his chair, Tony spoke softly, “is there anything else you know that could help us? They already made it personal but they keep pushing us further. And you’re the only one who actually knows anything about Luke.” Tony had harbored anger for days, anger that Loki could not blame him for. And though it seemed he attempted to keep that anger from seeping through to his voice, Loki heard it and knew it was for him.

Which he thoroughly deserved. All of this heartache was because of him. His fault, as most things tended to be. That it had taken so long for the Avengers to attempt to ply his secrets from his grip baffled. Though he was sure they would find the truth. If not from him then from that elder shade. Not telling them this secret would make it all worse. “I-- he--” Loki stuttered.  _ There is no Luke. There is only me. This is all my fault. I’m sorry. _ The words were so simple but his silvertongue betrayed him.

At his stutter, the pressure of Tony’s grip tightened. “I don’t know what it is you’ve been hiding, but you don’t have to. Whenever the hell you’re gonna figure that out, let us know.” Tony wore the hint of a tired smile, angry and weary. “I know it’s kinda your thing, asshole.”

“Ha,” Loki could feel sympathetic eyes on him. He must look miserable. Their pity was the last thing he wanted. Or deserved. But,  _ maybe _ , if they had pity to spare, they would have a meter of understanding for where he stood. It was a hope to cling to, false as it was. “This is going to sound bad.” He laughed, a harsh bark, at the absurdity of his understatement. The team’s benevolent stares wavered. “Luke is not--”

A rumble shook the tower. And, through the wide windows, the unmistakable rush of colors and sound that was the Bifrost roared onto the balcony.

Loki’s throat closed and his stomach clenched.

_ Norns, no. _ “Fare ye well, hope; I scarcely knew thee,” he muttered to himself. Sinking dread kept Loki from shock even as Thor and Sif bounded towards the windows.

As the Bifrost closed, out stepped the Allfather. Loki had not thought it possible to sink lower but the sight of the Allfather proved him wrong as it so often did. Behind Odin strode a dozen Einherjar, spears at the ready.

“What the hell is going on?” Tony dropped his grip from Loki’s shoulder. A part of Loki quietly wished he hadn’t, longing for closeness.  _ Traitor _ , his mind hissed at itself. As Odin and party marched across the balcony, Tony scowled. “Who the hell is Father Christmas out there?”

Loki merely shook his head. Of course his elder self had run off to Odin. He should have expected that. Odin, always Odin.

Both Thor and Sif tensed up, standing at attention like the proper soldiers they were. Sif snapped at Tony, more awed worry in her voice than irritation. “ _ He _ is the king of Asgard, the Allfather. It would serve you well to treat his visit with respect.”

Trying his best to meet Loki’s eye, Thor murmured, “whatever the nature of his visit may be… Loki do you know?” In any other circumstance, it would have delighted Loki that Thor believed him more informed. Especially when such an assumption was true.

Despite Thor’s increasing efforts, Loki watched only the progress of Odin. Unlike the other two, Loki kept his seat. No amount of false reverence would spare him, that he knew. “Aye.”

Odin was nearly at the door now. Still, Tony found time to speak. “ _ That’s _ your dad?” Tony grimaced. “He looks--”

The door swung wide. Loki forced himself to meet Odin’s gaze despite how his heart pounded at the action. His single blue eye was unreadable. The Allfather barely even glanced at Thor, Sif, or the other Avengers. Loki sucked in a shaky breath and with it, stood, back straight in defiance that reared its head within his shuddering chest. The least he could do was face his fate with what dignity remained to him.

It wasn’t Odin, but one of his Einherjar who spoke. “Loki Laufeyson.” The name was a slap to him; impossible not to flinch at. “The Allfather requests thy immediate return to Asgard.”

Clearly outraged, Thor dropped his stiff posture. “On what basis?” Loki didn’t hide his annoyed glare. Arguing, as amusing as it usually was, would only make this more difficult on them all. But his prideful fool of a brother clearly had no such intentions.

The guard glanced to the angry Thor. “On the basis of the protection of the Nine Realms.” _That was one way to put it,_ Loki laughed, a short, angry sound. Even Sif scoffed, though she attempted to play off the insolent action as a cough seconds later.

Loki ignored the Einherjar and stared only at Odin. Familiar rage boiled in his stomach. “If the Allfather has something to say, let him deliver the message himself.”

A bead of sweat dripped from underneath the Einherjar’s helmet.  _ Good _ , Loki hoped his rebuttal caused more than a little fear in the guards who watched on. They had to know what he would become. Perhaps they wondered how close that date was. He speculated the same. The Aesir opened his mouth to speak but Odin silenced him with a raised hand. “You know why we come.” More of a statement than a question.

Loki could feel the Avengers move in close behind him.  _ Friends he did not deserve _ . He hoped that concept could stand what was about to occur. “I am being accused of crimes of the most grievous nature.” He heard Tony suck in a breath. “The unforgivable crime of being Loki.” As he spoke, Loki realized it to be the truth. That was his greatest crime. His grandest joke on the world.

Though his revelation seemed not to unseat Odin. “You exag--”

“Am I  _ wrong? _ ” The words slipped out, a near shout. He was furious, suddenly. Furious with Odin for damning him, furious with himself, all versions, for the same reason. Furious with the team that had given him false hope that it could come to anything but this.

His outburst shook Thor from silence and common sense as he approached Odin. “Father, what is going on?! Why--”

“Shut up, Thor!”

“Silence!” Odin and Loki both snapped at Thor in near unison and he went quiet in open outrage and confusion. Odin continued. Now Loki saw anger in his lone eye. “You exaggerate. Whatever it is you believe I desire, I do not. Arguing that point shall only make this worse. ”

“Too late.” Loki glared openly now. “You should expect nothing less than that from  _ me _ ,” he spit the word. The Einherjar shifted into place around him, hands ready at their weapons. No doubt his elder self was was watching. Loki could practically feel his amused gaze. Then a warm pressure against the small of his back cut Loki’s thoughts off.  _ Anthony _ . Loki’s anger wavered and he felt tears well in his eyes.  _ Damn him. _

Hand still on Loki’s back, Tony glared at the Allfather. “Alright, I don’t have a goddamn clue what’s going on but I see two  _ assholes _ ,” Loki flinched at the venom, “trying to outdo each other. And I don’t like the sound of it.” Foolhardy, proud, incredibly Midgardian, Anthony; standing up against the Allfather. In that moment, Loki both hated him and felt his heart lurch with a sick joy. It was Tony’s fault Loki had thought change was possible. But clearly, foolishly, Tony had believed it too; and Loki had let him down.

And then Steve added his voice. “You can’t come barging into someone else’s house and demand they hand over an innocent man.”  _ Innocent _ , ha.

Then Natasha. “You’re actually violating--”

And Clint. “S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t--”

And Bruce. “You’re just--”

Their voices overlapped into an indecipherable cacophony of righteous fury that tore like knives. Loki desperately wished they would stop. They wouldn’t speak if they knew. Loki dropped his gaze from Odin as his eyes threatened to betray him and overflow his built dam. He hated all of them for their loyalty. It had to be hate, the other option was unthinkable.

Odin slammed Gungnir against the polished stone and the spear let out a ringing shriek that rattled the plate glass. All went quiet as the Midgardians flinched. Odin’s voice rumbled with anger. “Enough! I shall not be disrespected by the very people I am protecting. This arrangement with Loki is at my whim as he well knows. I need not announce my motives to the likes of you.” Odin turned his single, burning eye back on Loki, who still struggled for composure.  “You will return to Asgard, in chains, or not.”

In the silence that followed, Loki broke. Even as he tried to clutch to himself, he crumbled into a thousand brittle pieces. This was truly inevitable. “Fine,  _ father _ , I shall return with you.”  He took a step forward and seconds later, chains snapped around him, twirling out in an all too familiar way until they hung around his neck and ankles.

There was outrage on Thor’s face. “Father--”

“He’s not even resisting!” Both Steve and Tony echoed the same anger. Though they said no more as Odin raised Gungnir again. 

Loki turned to the team, feeling the metal collar cut into his neck like a dull blade. He wavered on the edge of speaking, yet anger boiled within him and he feared it would roil over should he open his mouth.

But Tony didn’t have any of Loki’s reservations. “This is bullshit. You’re just gonna run off and leave us?! At least tell us what the hell you did!”

““I--” Loki flinched. There was no way to fix this, not here, not now. Staring past Tony to shield himself from the scathing fire he deserved, Loki grit his teeth. “This is over. All of it. Move on, I have.” He turned roughly from the team before he could see their reactions. Staring only at Odin, he snarled, “lead the way.” The team went silent as the guards shifted in around him.

Though Loki didn’t look, Thor’s anger was clear. “I-- this is unjust! Father! I demand an explanation!”

Odin’s voice was rough as they stepped onto the balcony. Wind blew around them and twisted through their hair. Odin glanced wearily at Loki, who glared back “If you do not already have it, then return if you wish so for answers.”

“Fine! I will!”  _ Stubborn as ever _ . Loki scowled, the last thing he wanted was to pull along Thor. And if Thor was coming, Sif surely would too. It left Midgard without them with Amora and his other self at large.

As they stood in the place where the Bifrost had scorched its markings into the stone, Loki briefly wondered how it had been remade from the jagged scar he’d last seen it as. Loki stared up at the sky and willed himself not to think. To look back at the team was a death sentence. Doing so threatened his weak composure and were Odin to see-- he didn’t want an obvious weakness to be exploited. He already had enough to prod. The Bifrost’s tug, dreadful as it was, offered him some relief.

They touched down on the polished gold of the observatory. The sight of the structure left a sickness in Loki’s stomach and summoned the echo of a scream to his ears. He had not long to muse as the guards tugged him along. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Thor glaring at the Allfather. It was only a matter of time before he snapped.

Odin moved ahead, no longer deigning to even look at Loki. “Take him to the dungeons.”

“What?!” Loki immediately regretted the outburst. But his anger flared. He had, at least, expected his quarters.

Again, Thor’s outrage bubbled over and he stopped Odin. “Father, this is ridiculous! Have you lost thy mind?” As Thor’s disrespectful tirade continued, Loki was dragged on.

He couldn’t hear Odin’s reply as the guards dragged him down the Bifrost towards a squadron of horses, though he imagined that the truth would soon be revealed. There was some small mercy dispelled upon him, at the least, as the Einherjar travelled a winding path to avoid the surely bustling streets of the city. Loki found his mind drifting to Frigga.  _ Had she been involved? _ Had she seen what he would become? The thought cut through his anger, if briefly.

The dungeons were somehow worse than he remembered. The dark stone, etched with layers of enchantments, and the golden barriers separating the enclosures from those outside loomed around him. The hungry stares of the common criminals stored in the cells bored into him. Loki knew not a one of them could lay a hand on him. That they should be cowing away. It didn’t help, though he managed to keep his head high and his back straight. 

They stopped in front of an empty cell and Loki watched one of the guards dissipate the golden barrier with a few discrete swipes. Once inside, the Einherjar surrounding him clicked away his shackles. Loki glared silently at the guard in front of him, revelling in their nervous shaking hands.  He stared at the smooth stone wall until he heard the golden barrier go up behind him. One of the Einherjar spoke. “You shall remain here until the Allfather determines the time for your trial. Until then, mea- m--” The golden barriers vibrated, sending out a ringing note, as Loki clenched his fists. The Einherjar continued, “meals will be delivered thrice a day.” He heard the clinking of their armor as they scurried away.

Loki barely heard the Einherjar flee. He realized, numbly, that he was shaking. Staring at the immaculate white wall, Loki tried to let his mind go blank. It was a failing venture. He’d visited these dungeons once before as a young boy. He and Thor had been so excited to tag along at Odin’s boots. But the sight of dirty, angry eyed criminals had quickly sapped away their wonder. That day they’d seen the underbelly of Asgard for the first time, it hadn’t been the last. Now, Loki was another criminal in a cell. He couldn’t stop shaking. 

Images of the prisoners from long ago floated to mind. A toothless mouth spouting profanities until a guard had forced him to stop. Sickening cooed words that had followed Loki into his dreams for weeks to come. But the worst had been the silent watchers. Those that said not a word; Loki vividly remembered meeting the eyes of one only to find them blank and pale. 

But this wasn’t his first time in a cell. His skin crawled with old wounds, long healed. To a cell was where he returned after the Titan had finished his bloody work. A cell was where his traitor’s body healed him to readiness for more abuse _. But that wasn’t this cell, _ he tried to tell himself as his breath hitched. His mind wasn’t keen on listening. _ Not that cell, not that cell notthatcellnotthatcell. _

Perhaps it was imagination, but Loki felt the walls of his box pushing down upon him. Soon they'd crush him into nonexistence; him, Asgard’s cursed second son.

Loki choked out a sudden sob. Panicking he clamped his mouth shut. The Einherjar stationed outside his cell gave no indication of having noticed. Tears welled now and though he deeply, deeply wished for strength he did not have, there was no stopping the tide. Sinking to the ground, Loki threw up a quick illusion, which paced like a caged wolf. His vision blurred as hot tears ran down his cheeks. A moan escaped his lips and he clasp a hand over his mouth.

_ Pathetic _ . He was pathetic. Asgard’s not-son, damned to a cell for crimes he had yet to commit. “Unfair,” his hiccuping accusation to no one was muffled under his palm, pushing against the truth that he deserved this.

The mere thought of the Avengers made his taut heart shudder. He hated them, he had to. They’d torn away his hope but worse, they’d given him some.  _ If he didn’t hate them…  _ He could picture Anthony kneeling next to him, making some quip like: ‘ _ tears leave stains on the rug, I just had this dry-cleaned, get up, Antlers.’ _ Loki choked back another sob as his hands found his hair and tugged painfully.

_ Wailing over the inevitable, pathetic. _

“Lok--  _ oh…  _ Loki.” Frigga’s voice sent chills down his spine. An image of her stood over him. 

Panic rose again in Loki’s stomach and his hysteria dried at the source. Breath shaky, he rose.  _ Why was he on the floor? Stupid - stupid _ . He turned from her, his cheeks still burned with shame. As he spun away, he caught a glimpse of himself in the simple mirror adorning his cell, flushed cheeks, red rimmed eyes that still gleamed with childish sorrow. The image was mortifying.

Noting the small washbasin in the corner of his cell, Loki beelined for it. Gulping in a deep breath he spoke. “Hello, mother,” the words came out not as steady as he hoped. He dared not look at her for fear of losing his tenuous calm. Her sympathy was the last thing he needed.

“My son…” There was real sorrow in her voice but something else as well.  _ Fear _ , maybe.

_ Oh, oh no. Did she-- _ pushing the thought back, Loki cupped water into his hands and held it against his face. It cooled his burning cheeks, though the weight of tears unshed still tugged at him. The thought nagged and “did you have a say in this,” slipped out unbidden, closer to a croak than a cold, detached question he wished to pose. Her hesitation chilled him enough to turn. There was such agony in her eyes. “Did you?”

_ No, no of course not, _ he willed her to say. Had he been betrayed on all fronts, even this, most precious one? “Mother.”

Her image approached him, hand outstretched. “Loki, we--”

Bile rose in his throat. Again his cheeks burned but self pity was no longer the culprit. Unbelievable. _ No, no it wasn’t _ , whispered a bitter voice,  _ she did it a thousand times before. _ “Of all the people--” He laughed, short and manic, certain to make it as biting as possible.

She nearly flinched at his laughter. “We’re trying to save you, Loki.”

“Oh, well you’re doing a  _ marvellous  _ job at that. I feel practically  _ cozy _ !” His raised voice caused no alarm from the guards outside, muffled by his spell as they were.

Frigga frowned at his outburst but didn’t turn away. Loki wished she would. “This was all we could think to do. Leaving you on Midgard would only assure damnation. The cell-- I argued against it but the enchantment in these walls run deeper than any we can place around your quarters.”

_ This  _ was their finest solution? “Odin damned me the moment he scooped me up on Jotunheim,  _ mother _ .”

At his spitfire, Frigga’s eyes hardened to a brittle blue. “We love you, Loki. You’re in this cell because it is the best place to protect  _ you _ . It keeps… undesirables out just as firmly as it keeps you within it.” Drawing closer, she reached out but did not touch him. “It pains me to put you here when you are no criminal. But seeing-- seeing thy elder self-- it felt--”

“My heart  _ weeps  _ for you.” Was she going to lecture him on sorrow?  _ Him!  _ “I would have to be of  _ ice  _ to not wail for your feelings.” They were paces apart, Loki knew full well a swipe would destroy the image she spoke through. “Oh,  _ wait _ ,” he laughed harshly.

Her eyes were of stone but pain leaked through her words. “We don’t expect you to understand. In truth, we do not fully understand this either.” Loki curled his lips to snarl a retort but she silenced him. “This cell is only a temporary extreme. You have every right to be angry.”

Loki kept his snarl.  _ Angry? _ He was far beyond that now. “Get out of my sight.”

“Loki--”

“Get. Out.” With a slash, he ruined her image, ignoring the sadness in her face before she disappeared. It wasn’t for him, it was for a version of her younger son that no longer existed and apparently would never exist again.

Silence followed, though faint ramblings from a cell unseeable floated through the hall.

Loki sank to the bed shoved into one his cell’s corners. _ Betrayal, _ what a familiar feeling. In the silence Loki’s anger hardened into something cold that sat, a physical weight, in his throat.

But the silence didn’t last. Loki heard Thor before he saw him.

“Where-- where is my brother? Loki!” Not deigning to rise, Loki watched as Thor almost bound past his cell before doubling back; there was pain in his bright blue eyes, fury too. “Loki! Have they hurt you?”

“No wounds of the physical sort.” Loki’s coolness seemed to confuse Thor, who’s eyebrows knit together.

Thor chewed on his bottom lip, an old tell. He was formulating some half-baked idea. “They will not tell me why you are here. Father insists I hear it from you. Hear what?” Thor had practically pressed himself against the barrier separating them. The Einherjar threw him nervous glances. “Hear what, Loki?” He repeated himself expectantly.

What could he say? What wouldn’t accomplish anything but turning this even further against him?  _ My future self all but proved I shall forever remain your enemy, your opposite. _ Ha. “I couldn’t explain.”

“Explain?” Perhaps it was Loki’s imagination but he swore thunder sounded even here in the belly of Asgard. “I am swiftly growing weary of this game. Have you done something?”

Loki hesitated. “No,” it was the truth. He picked at the rough linens of the bed. Thor’s presence did naught but exhaust. There remained one last person to cling to, to betray him. “Go away, brother. Leave this prisoner to his domain.”

“What?!” Now Loki was certain he heard thunder. Familiar righteous fury crossed Thor’s face.  _ The fool. _ “I know not what it is you think you’ve done but,” Thor sucked in a deep breath, “but this is unjust. And whatever secret you’re keeping, whoever you’re protecting by taking this punishment. I shall find out.”

Thor thought him selfless enough for that?  _ More than a simple fool, but a willfully ignorant one, then.  _ “No you won’t.” He watched Thor shake his head and turn away.

“We shall see.” And with Thor’s words, Loki was left alone.

In the ringing silence of the dungeons, Loki could focus on naught but the pit of icy anger in his throat and the way the realms lay him taut and thin.


	7. 7: Falling

Time passed irregularly under the unflinching lights of Loki’s cell. All he could measure the days by was the shift of the guards and the presents from Frigga that came with.  _ As if books and trinkets could help him forget her betrayal. _ Loki had taken to stacking his gifts in increasingly elaborate and precarious towers as a form of protest; which he would topple on unfortunate guards after the brought him his food. He knew it was a childish act but he no longer cared.

Frigga’s gifts also presented themselves in his meals. Prisoner’s fare was bland, nearly tasteless much designed only to fill the body with enough nutrients to survive. Agony in itself. But with his gruel came more. Freshly squeezed juice, a small vine of grapes, a roll with the smallest pot of honey, the occasional savory meats.

These gifts, he rarely denied. Though when he did he was sure to do so in spectacular fashion. On what he thought was the third night of his imprisonment, the unfortunate guard sent to retrieve his bowl had left with juice blown so far up his nose he’d be lucky to rid himself of its taste in less than a week.

Occasionally, Frigga herself deigned to visit. Though said meetings were usually short and biting. Mostly, Loki spat bile at her until he felt hollow and empty, thin to the point of snapping. She seemed convinced she could bury their ill will under declarations of affection he no longer believed. When she left neither of them had achieved anything but misery.

The only one more persistent than Frigga was Thor. It was obvious he’d yet to learn the truth, as he never stopped pestering and prodding. But if he hoped Loki to grow soft in imprisonment, he was sorely mistaken. In truth, Loki had come to dread Thor’s visits. Not for the prisoners that hissed everything from perversions to begs for freedom, or the hollowness Loki felt when he spun lies to Thor, but for the ache in Thor’s eyes and the constant worry about his brow.

As if he needed more reminders of his own failures. Some days Loki merely plucked a book from his given gifts and stared at it, hoping Thor would leave. But even then his brother persisted in a one-sided conversation.

Mostly, though, his days were silent.

“Wow, isn’t this a blast from the past!” Loki nearly crushed the glass dove he rolled between his hands as his elder self stepped through the golden barrier as if it were nothing. “Or future, I suppose. But who keeps track of these things?” Loki stared, the cold lump of anger in his throat, so well nursed of late, sprung to life. 

Of course, of  _ course  _ the one reason he was in this cell was fruitless.

His elder self seemed not to notice, or more likely, care for his silent outrage. Striding over, he sat beside Loki on the bed and swung an arm around his shoulders. “There there, it’s just our lot in life.”

Standing, Loki pulled away from his older self. He glanced to the guards outside. They were utterly oblivious, it seemed. “This is your fault.”

Old Loki stuck his lower lip out in a mock pout. “Boo. I’m not the one who decided we were too dangerous to keep around.  _ I  _ did not bury us.” He rose, worn hands plucking a book from the stack Loki had intended to topple on his captors. “I  _ guess  _ I fixed up the Bifrost. But just because I sharpened the sword doesn’t mean I was the one who drew it.”

“You--” The words spun in Loki’s head.  _ How much power would such a feat take _ ? He could only guess but it chilled him to the bone. 

A smug smile curved his older self’s cracked face. “Didn’t just earn wrinkles, kid. You’d be shocked at the secrets hidden away in plain sight.” Old Loki ripped a page from the book he held and tucked it into his jet black suit. Loki blinked at the careless mutilation.

“What are you here to do; to gloat, to mock?” Loki took some pride in his unwavering voice.

His elder self gasped theatrically, “oh please, I would  _ never _ .” Old Loki drew in close again. There was nowhere for Loki to go, backed against the pale stone as he was. “Are you starting to understand? It doesn’t matter what we do; those we think we trust  _ will  _ betray us.”

_ He was right, _ whispered a vicious thought. Loki turned away from his elder’s cold eyes but found only merciless stone. “Thor--”

“Bah! It's always him last, isn't it,” old Loki scoffed, backing him further into a corner until Loki pressed hard against the stone, wishing he could melt away into it but the runes etched deep within the walls kept him confined. For the briefest moment he envied his old Loki’s abilities. “I would ask what it would take to convince you, but,” his elder self grew momentarily somber, “I know better than any.” Striking like a snake, old Loki wrapped strong fingers around Loki’s arm and Loki felt his energy being sucked away. Petrified by his elder’s spell, Loki locked eyes with him. The taut wire strung through Loki tightened and he felt his very being stretched thin.

Then he was falling.

But it wasn’t falling like he’d ever experienced before. Not the exhilaration of leaping off a cliff into cool waters below. Nor even the dread tug of the Void, the longest and slowest of falls. He was not receding from the world. The world itself pulled away and left him drifting. It seemed to have tugged a piece of his chest with it as his heart slowed, each beat echoing through an empty space.

All that was solid and sure were the hands of his elder self on his arm. They fell for an eternity, though not an unpleasant one. Part of him wished they could fall forever, outside of space and time. He hoped that his elder self had stranded them, that the strange hollowness suddenly consuming Loki’s chest could swallow them both. He felt like a rotted trunk, empty or full of naught but worms and old remnants of life. There was no longer anything supporting him from within and he feared that if he bent too far he’d fall apart into nothingness, torn apart by this tension.  _ But then again... _

_ The world could be free of Loki, of Lokis, and he wouldn’t have to die to achieve it. _ Truly a win for all.

But fate, his eternal enemy, couldn’t even allow him that.

He touched down and felt the ground beneath him shift and roll and  _ crunch _ . Struggling for proper footing, he focused, with difficulty, on the grey hellscape around him. Husks of buildings rose high into smoggy air, crumbling and fading. The air smelled of sulphur and ash. The ground that provided him so little--  _ the ground. _

Loki stared, his stomach heaved to his throat. Bones, he stood on what looked to be thousands of bones. Femurs, ribs, skulls, all worn and shattered. Forcing himself up from the death beneath his feet, Loki stared at his older self, searching his face for answers. But he was inscrutable. “Where--” was all Loki could muster before his stomach threatened a mutiny.  _ Were the ashes he tasted-- _

It was something out of the Titan’s dread hallucinations.  _ This couldn’t be real-- _

“You know,” there was no mistaking the solemn tone of old Loki’s voice. He seemed changed, as if the jump had drained him of what cracked light lit him. There was a flicker of  _ something  _ behind his eyes but Loki knew not what it was, only that it left him uneasy. “Where else could it be?”

_ Oh, oh. _ “Midgard.” Loki saw himself nod. For a brief moment Loki closed his eyes and shut out the world. _ Maybe if he never opened them this would fade away.  _ “Who?” The hollowness of his chest suddenly made sense to him. This wasn’t his time, his body rebelled against this crime of order and he had no emotion of his own to fuel him, only scraps enough to sustain his muted horror. In this, he was blissfully numb. “Was it us?”

“They damned themselves. It was a mercy killing.” Loki knew not if he lied. It mattered not.

“How long?”  _ Norns, he was  _ tired _.  _

An exhaustion he saw mirrored on his elder self as he kneeled down and scooped a skull into his hand. “Long enough.” Loki suppressed a sigh, sinking deeper into numbness and trying to dispel his roiling stomach, the last of his emotions sequestered there in an attempted coup.

“I want to go… to leave.”  _ To go home _ , he didn’t have it, only the beautiful illusion of one. And even that had been stripped from him.

Bones crunched under his elder’s gait.  _ Anthony, were his bones there? Or Steve’s? Or Natasha’s? _ Loki’s vision swam as his stomach tossed. He could feel himself trembling and tried to hate himself for it but the numbness locked that vice away and left him with nothing to distract. Apparently old Loki noticed as the crunch of footsteps stopped. “I’m saving you,” he said it as if he was trying to convince himself. “Together we can do great things. We don’t have to rule a dead Earth, no when both of us could take a living one and keep it living.” His insistence was almost childlike, Loki realized with morbid humor.

“I--” Opening his mouth was a fatal mistake. His mutinous stomach betraying him, Loki lurched forward and heaved. His throat burned as thin bile splattered the bones beneath him. Heaving until he gagged up nothing, Loki shuddered.  _ Empty stomach to match an empty chest, _ whispered a nasty voice in his head.

In the stifling, unnatural silence his elder’s sigh was magnified a thousand fold. “Get up,” he commanded blandly. Loki wiped bile from his lips, staring at the ribcage beneath his hand. “Get up,” more insistent this time, with a nasty edge. “Get up, you weakling!”

Sucking in an unsteady breath, Loki glared at his other self. “You--” his teeth chattered as his stomach protest again but there was nothing left for it to give up. “You sound like Odin.”

“That old man is dead here.  _ He  _ no longer matters to me.”

“Liar,” Loki chuckled numbly as his elder self snatched him up.

There were cracks snapping in old Loki’s facade, in his careful control. Here they were alone. Here they were Loki and Loki only, for whatever that was worth. “Shut up.”

The hollow space in Loki’s chest ached. “You think I want this? I thought you knew me.” Anger flickered in his elder’s eyes.

“We can have  _ better  _ than this! You’re just deluding yourself!” The fact that Loki hadn’t been struck yet would have astounded him had he cared. It seemed he’d vomited up the straggling emotions thrumming through him. He wondered if he could even scrounge up more.

“How,” he questioned. “If I still become you, then how does any of this change?”

Old Loki raised a fist but stuttered, “I--” Some unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes before hardening into cold fury. “You are a foolish, misguided child. The things I’ve seen-- you have no idea.” His elder self quaked, “no idea.”

Something in Loki’s hollow chest twinged, fear perhaps. He’d already experienced the Titan, what could be worse? “Enlighten me.”

“Let me help you.”

They stared eachother down. “No,” Loki flinched as old Loki drew back a hand but no strike came.

When he opened his eyes old Loki’s face had gone slack. There was raw exhaustion in his blue-green eyes. “I am… so tired… so--” A thunderous crack split the sky and old Loki’s exhaustion vanished under a masklike leer. “Oh, goodie, family time.”

“Loki! I promised thee that if you returned to this realm I’d split thy damnable skull!” A jolt of fear shot through Loki’s numbness. He knew that voice better than any, better than his own, though not so worn nor so angry. A grey bearded Thor hovered high above them, lightning crackled off of him. As Loki searched this new-old Thor, he noticed the contraption of black uru that replaced Thor’s left arm and the patch covering his left eye. In Thor’s age he looked eerily like Odin. Then, Loki saw his single, angry blue eye focus on him. “What trickery is this,” Thor’s voice was a low growl, not unlike the thunder that rolled around him.

Old Loki’s hand clutched possessively around Loki’s throat, throttling any reply he could have made. “Just a plaything. My, you’re looking  _ old _ , dear Thor, I’d near forgotten.” The taunting edge was back in old Loki’s voice though Loki saw some of his previous exhaustion lingering about his eyes. “And you cannot simply go ousting a king from his rightful land. Really, Thor, you of all--” Just before lightning struck them, old Loki phased out of the realm.

He reappeared on top of a crumbling tower and Loki’s stomach heaved again. “Careful now, you’ll damage the goods!” Thor roared and flew towards them, demolishing the side of the building as they leapt from it. Grinning viciously, old Loki hissed in Loki’s ear, “looks like we’re not welcome. What a shame.” Then a grand  _ ‘boom’ _ shook the heavens and Loki screamed as he felt white hot lightning arc through him, setting his hollow chest ablaze.

His scream mingled with his elder’s and suddenly he was plummeting alone. Old Thor’s lightning ravaged his body, its fury outmatched  _ his  _ Thor’s by a league. Loki screamed until his throat ran slick with blood as the electricity coursed through him. Not for the first, or second, or hundredth time in his life, he wished he were an easier being to finish off. A cold metal hand grabbed him and for a moment Loki felt relief as he expected to be scooped from his fall.

But he heard old Thor growl and suddenly the ground rushed towards him faster. Loki twisted in a last ditch effort to protect himself. Instinctively he reached into the hollowness of his body and searched for his seidr but before he could even feel it stir, he hit the ground and all thoughts paled to white-hot agony.

Bones crunched, Loki knew not how many were his and how many were beneath him. Thunderous pain bloomed across his back and everything went dark.

Lightning streaked across merciful nothingness and Loki gasped a blood breath. He squinted through the haze of black up at Thor.  _ This  _ Thor, this angry, old, incomplete Thor who glared at him with a single blue eye that bore no love. This Thor who raised Mjolnir high above Loki’s face like an executioner. “What are you?”

Loki opened his mouth to speak but only blood gurgled in his throat. _ That wasn’t good _ , he thought numbly. He tried again and this time his gut ached dully as he nearly choked on his own thick blood. Glancing down, his eyes landed on a bloody rod of steel sticking from his gut. “Oh Hel,” he managed to choke out something near a laugh. That the spear didn’t hurt more inspired terror than the blood that clogged his throat.

Old Thor shook him and Loki’s vision flickered dangerously. “Answer me! You who takes the visage of a time when I still called Loki brother!”

Hands fluttering around the steel skewering him, Loki felt more laughter bubbling in his raw throat. _ By the Norns he was so tired _ . “Th- _ or. _ ” He saw Mjolnir quiver in Thor’s raised hand. “Th _ orrr. _ ”

Something akin to fear sparked in the old Thor’s eye. “The Trickster’s games grow crueler by the day,” he muttered almost to himself. “But I cannot be shaken by echoes of the dead.” Thor’s voice grew commanding again. “Creature of mayhem, you can collect your construct in pieces!” Mjolnir hummed as thunder sounded.

Through the emptiness in his chest, Loki felt his heart struggle to keep its rhythm. “Thhhor… ple-ase…” If there was mercy in Thor’s gaze he hid it well. The air crackled with electricity.

Loki stared up at him, thick blood heavy against his chest and on his tongue then he heard his elder self cry out “mine!” And cold hands curled around his arm.

He fell through nothingness again.

Or, perhaps, rose. He couldn’t be sure for he saw nothing and felt even less.

As he drifted, his hollowness filled itself from the outside as the very air around him poured into his chest. He gasped for life as his lungs struggled to make sense of this strange reality.

Then he stood, backed against his cell wall once more. His hands flew to his abdomen but it was whole. And, as he sucked in air, his other traumas became nothing more than phantoms. Old Loki’s hands on him drew Loki back to reality. “Damn meddler. If I’d lost you…”

“Loki Laufeyson,” they both flinched at the name. Turning in unison, Loki saw a dozen guards standing outside his cell. When he glanced back to Old Loki his elder disappeared. “The hour of your trial is now.”


	8. 8: Crumbling

To say the least, Fury wasn’t all too happy about the “unsanctioned departure” of the three gods.

The political rhetoric spewed at the team over the next few days nearly let Tony drown himself entirely in work.  _ (Better than drowning himself in booze, at least) _ From talks with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the morning, still on high alert for Amora and Luke who were both an even bigger danger without their own gods. To fast tracking some of his magic based weapons, something that Tony knew he could do but found a hard time committing his heart into  _ without Loki there to criticize _ . To short talks with an equally exhausted and frustrated team. Last, when he found time to sleep, Tony tried to keep himself from drinking himself into a stupor mostly for Pepper’s sake.

For her he put on a brave face and wore it well. 

But he was furious. Furious at the self righteous gods, his  _ friends _ , who he  _ cared  _ about, who he fed  _ (a frankly astonishing amount) _ , who he’d lived with for over a year. Who had left without even trying to explain what was happening. That knowledge was made worse by the fact that Loki definitely knew something. But no, he hadn’t told them. Tony was forced to wonder how long and how severe his secrets ran.

Deep enough that angry father Christmas had come to collect his kids, apparently.

All in all, the whole team deserved a week long vacation in the Bahamas and a good nap. Something away from the worries of Amora and Luke.

So, of course, they weren’t getting that.

Tony stared blankly at the totally dismantled parts of a prototype gun designed to mimic Mjolnir’s electrical capabilities. Tapping the mini arc reactor he’d installed, Tony scowled and contemplated if he could get away with flying back to the east coast and trying with the original reactor. No matter what he did, the thing couldn’t replicate the sheer destructive capability of the blonde god’s stupid hammer. Another option was tapping into New York City’s power grid to get what he wanted. Not that he could carry around the entire city’s municiples wherever he went.

And even that he doubted would do the trick. The god’s magic just didn’t have an equal when it came to straight adoption. Unfortunately they were running short on magic space alien gods.  _ But not their stuff,  _ a thought nudged Tony from his stagnation.

It took him only minutes to get up to Loki’s room. Bursting through the door, ignoring the hissing spells that rang in his ears and the nagging notion that Loki would throttle him if it ever came out he searched through Loki’s stuff without permission, Tony scanned the place. It wouldn’t be the first time Loki had left clues about what was happening. Excitement bloomed in his chest, _ finally he could start to understand, how stupid he was not to do this earlier. _ The first place to turn was the tapestry.

Jormungandr slithered along the side, woven eyes half lidded. But Tony ignored him and searched inward. “Hey, Hel!” Unlike last time he’d ‘talked’ to the godling, he got no immediate response. Not that that would stop him. “Hel, Hela? Leah?” He strategically avoided the wandering green eyes that could only belong to Fenrir. No way was he messing with that wolf.

Finally he felt the pressure of the goddess press down upon him.  _ “Oh, it’s thee.” _ She sounded unamused by his presence. A spike of doubt shot through him.  _ “I should hope you realize, Anthony Stark, that we are not playthings to be roused at thy whim.” _

“N-no,” he held up his hands disarmingly and tried to think positive thoughts as the goddess rooted around in his conscious. “Course not, I just… you know what happened to the Asgardians, right?”

_ “I am aware that the Allfather has called them back, yes.” _ She sounded completely unworried.  _ “What,” _ but her presence did seem annoyed enough,  _ “does that have to do with us?” _

Struck with the awful realization he may have made a mistake, Tony gulped. “I thought--  _ hoped _ ,” he amended, “that maybe you could help us. I mean, Loki knew something. He sounded like he was about to tell us before his dad snatched him away. Did you know what it was?” Behind his back, he crossed his fingers and wished for the best.

For a long moment, Hel was silent. He saw her emerge from the woven trees, appearing as a dark haired little girl in a long green dress. The tiny bones that stuck from her hair, Tony thought, were a nice touch.  _ “I know, yes. I’ve known for quite some time.” _

Relief flooded through Tony. “What is it then? Luke or…” He trailed off, excited and ready to call in the rest of the team.

The kid in the tapestry visibly laughed, bringing a hand to her mouth.  _ “You are under the impression I shall tell you.” _ She shut him down before he could even start to protest.  _ “I have been explicitly asked not to divulge my knowledge. That I did prior was under my father’s direct orders.” _

Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “But-- you’re not afraid something might happen to him on Asgard? His dad didn’t sound happy.”  _ There had to be some way to get her to change her mind, _ Tony thought desperately for solutions.  _ But she was related to Loki, maybe, he knew full well just how stubborn that could make her, _ poked a pessimistic voice in his head.

Clearly she wasn’t so ready to cooperate.  _ “I have full faith in Loki. Any Loki.” _ The child shifted to a woman and her voice grew a mite crueler.  _ “And I am the Goddess of Death, Anthony of Midgard. I have more important things to deal with than thee or all of my father’s machinations. I win no matter the outcome” _

“You’re not worried at all?!” _ Goddamn typical for these Asgard types _ , he reeled in his tongue before he could insult her. The pressure that pushed down upon him threatened to collapse him into the ground already.

Even as he tried not to insult, he felt her distaste radiate.  _ “I am wholly certain in a Loki’s capabilities. I need not interfere with every problem of his. Especially when they are self made.” _

Catching onto her weird wording, Tony snarled, “ _ a Loki _ , what the fuck are you talking about?!” He yelped as all the air was stolen from his lungs. Gasping like a fish, he felt her rip violently away and disappear back into the trees with only the lingering sense of fury. 

It took him a solid few minutes before he could breath easy again.

Though easy was a solid overstatement.

A Loki?  _ A _ Loki, he’d never get a straight answer out of the goddess. 

And because this week was already going so well, the tower’s alarm system went off. “Damnit,  _ damnit _ ,” muttering, Tony ran from the room.

And then there was the Amora problem.

Amora, he was beginning to think, lived entirely on spite. The way Loki had talked about her hadn’t helped. Despite that the god swore she wasn’t an ex, he certainly complained about her like one. Though the more she needled them, the more Tony was starting to understand that maybe she was just like that.

By the time they made it to the remote S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, she’d dropped off the map again and left a wake of disorientated or dead agents in her path. Touching down on cold earth, Tony spotted Fury staring up at the sky, looking unusually pensive. “What’d she do,” he called out, glancing at a smoking body nearby nauseously.  _ He’d never get used to it. _

Fury turned, his Matrix coat fluttering in the wind. It was until the rest of the team convened from the Quinjet that he spoke. “She took something very important.” He sounded uncharastically worried.

“And,” Steve prompted, frowning, “what was that?”

Tony resisted the urge to snap about their classification level. Now was clearly not the time. Fury’s face, if possible, grew grimmer. “Loki’s old scepter.”

Even as agents rushed around them, the world seemed to grow still. The cold air dropped even further still as Tony’s mouth went dry and he heard Clint let out a string of curses on his left. “You’re kidding,” he managed. But Fury merely shook his head.


	9. 9: Acceptance

Lurking just out of sight, Loki watched his younger self accept chains with little more than a sneer, swiftly wiping away the dismay he’d displayed only moments before. As the youth was dragged away, Loki took a moment to collect his traitorous thoughts.

This lie of a past he’d existed in had lulled him into security. A mistake that had nearly proved ruinous. Had his younger self perished the ensuing chaos could have fractured his own timeline beyond repair after all the careful work he’d done to keep it whole.

 _Damnable Thor_ , Loki narrowed his unseeable eyes and brought anger past the emptiness of his chest. He could, and should, slay the oaf in this time. Rid himself of the nuisance before Thor became too strong to manage properly.

But something stirred in Loki’s hollow chest. He scowled at the feeling and smothered it in its ill conceived crib. The last thing he had the time for was sentiment from his long dormant heart. It would merely be another thing to betray him.

Besides, his younger self had enough to share. _The fool_.

Loki strayed so close to the youth that had he been more than a phantom he surely would have been struck. The impassiveness of his self was near impressive as he managed to look both disinterested and suitably regal. _Near_ impressive, Loki knew all his cues could see just how close to breaking he truly was.

Likely it was a similar appearance as they had when they’d fallen from the Bifrost. The sinking, hopeless resignation to their fate, that they were destined to tumble from grace, among other things. But this time Loki would be there to catch his younger self and raise them both to something better.

_A better life._

Again, Loki struck down the flutterings struggling in his very being. _Damn his traitorous heart._ Even the hollowness of his chest, out of time as his very being was, couldn’t silence it wholly. The grave mistake of returning to a time when his chest was not so hollow manifested itself against him.

Their procession was soon joined by Thor and Sif. Loki smiled at the sight of the latter; she, at least, never hid her distaste or her willingness to betray him. Affection wasn’t quite the correct moniker for what he felt. Appreciation, perhaps. Acknowledgement of the truth between them.

And she did not yammer as Thor did now, obviously infuriated. Thor raved at Loki, the Einherjar, and Sif about the injustices of this and various other sickeningly righteous statements. But young Loki’s near indifference only appeared to anger him more.

Loki didn’t try to hold back a chuckle, knowing that none would hear. There was nothing Lokis did better than bamboozling their Thors. Patting his younger self on the back for a job well done, Loki watched him shudder from what must have felt like the ghost of a touch. It was all the reminder he seemed to need that Loki wasn’t far, as he straightened his back and paled.

It was not a comfort, clearly, but a promise.

A promise for their sealed future.

When at last their little troupe came to a rest at the foot of the Hlidskjalf, which upon sat the Allfather and his Queen astride, Loki delighted at the anger flaring in his younger self’s gaze. Base and childish as it was, Loki knew that anger well, knew how swiftly it could be molded into a deadly weapon. Odin slammed Gungnir to the ground, casting Thor mercifully silent.

For a long moment Odin searched young Loki’s face. For what, Loki guessed, were hints of Loki himself. _The old fool, pretending that there were mere hints when their faces were one and the same._ The thought could have sent Loki into hysterics had his mood not been irksomely soured by his own near failure and newly roused rebellious heart.

“Loki Odinson,” Odin’s voice resonated with an old power Loki couldn’t help but snort at. _Claim us when it’s useful old man._ The Allfather motioned towards the Einherjar flanking the young Loki. “Unshackle him.” Surprise flickered across young Loki’s face for the briefest of moments.

But Loki merely grinned in his state of half being and waited.

The youth shifted in place, no doubt testing that he could still reach his seidr and that this wasn’t some cruel trick. Clearly somewhat appeased, he raised his chin and addressed their not-father. “I was not under the impression that Asgard was so lenient as to allow reckless freedom to their criminals.”

“When those in question are not criminals, she can be.”

Loki was glad none could hear his laughter. Even his younger self gave a grim, knowing smirk. “My ‘friends’ down in the dungeons would tend to disagree.” In his voice was morbid humor. Loki felt the flutterings of his own hollow chest cease gladly. _There he is, I am,_ he thought viciously, joyfully. “Why, even these fine Einherjar,” the youth motioned mockingly towards his guards, “would likely voice some dissent towards such an assumption should you let them.”

“I am well aware you have not made their job an easy one.” There was veiled disappointment in Odin’s voice. “Such actions are unbecoming for a prince--”

Loki curled his lips wolfishly in the same instant as his younger.  “Why, it must be the _mischief_ in me, Allfather.” Loki watched the layers of his youth’s jab strike Odin individually as his face shifted, imperceptible to all but Loki and the Queen who stood on Odin’s right.

But Odin seemed not inclined to grieve long. “Whatever your excuse,” young Loki’s nostrils flared, belaying outrage at the patronization, “you are still a Prince of Asgard and my son. And this dread curse upon you we wish to negate.” Barking out a laugh heard to none, Loki reveled in the irony of Odin’s words. _Curse, what a beautiful lie._ Odin had told him ages ago he was under no curse. It appeared his younger self also remembered the words as his grim smile dipped. “Though you may feel differently, in bringing you here as we did we hope to save your future.”

 _Oh, this would be a delight._ Loki mused on how best to spoil their wishes as his younger self snorted humorlessly. “You should have left me on Midgard.”

“We should never have left you _to_ Midgard.”

In the midst of this battle, young Thor growled with outrage. Clearly he could no longer contain his grievances dutifully. “First my brother is taken prisoner, now he is chainless and you trade speeches more akin to riddles. I know you father, you have reasons for all you do. To what end does this interrogation lead?” In Thor’s voice was righteous, hopeful fury that made Loki briefly wonder when he’d killed his Thor’s hope and the traitorous fluttering returned, rebounding off his hollow chest. In Loki’s focus to smother the feeling he missed Odin’s reply but Thor’s shouts were unignorable. “I shall not be kept in the dark when mine own family is on the line!”

And in Thor’s outrage, Loki saw his opportunity. _Thor, always Thor,_ he laughed to himself. Abandoning his station beside the youth, Loki hovered behind Thor. Not for the first time, he wished Thor weren’t the taller sibling, his height certainly would ruin his preferred reveal. Instead, he clasp Thor’s shoulders, still in his half reality. He felt Thor jump from the icy ghost of his touch. Allowing himself to return to full reality he purred, “I agree with the tyke. We _should_ include the whole family.” Loki soaked in the gasped that sounded out. He blinked innocently as Thor recoiled away, eyes full of confusion and more of that virtuous temper. “Lovely to finally speak with you, dear older brother.”

Loki’s younger self only stared in resigned silence.

Mere moments after Loki revealed himself he felt Odin push against his will. The idea almost made him laugh, _here was a fun challenge._ Loki deigned to meet the Allfather’s eye as a few quick minutes passed. Odin’s will sought to smother him, silence him. But Loki jabbed forward and watched Odin wince and the game was up. _You’re out of your depth, old man;_ he pushed his thoughts onto Odin and saw the Allfather’s eyes widen. Relenting he bowed mockingly low though kept himself ready should the king try again. Despite his prowess the idea of being caught off guard by the king kept him wary.

The look on the old king’s face was a priceless mix of anger and what appeared to be the inklings of well masked surprise. The latter was truly a delight that no one else seemed to be appreciating. “Why are you here, old Trickster?” Odin’s voice was weary.

Before Loki could respond, Thor’s shocked mutterings interrupted. “No, no. Father that isn’t…” Loki supposed his wretched tone would have been heartbreaking had Loki’s chest not been hollow and his fluttering thoughts firmly locked away again.

“Oh, but yes, dear brother,” he turned his purr on Thor. “Yes I am.”

“Loki,” Thor ignored him and grabbed onto the younger Loki in a desperate appeal. “Loki, please, this is just another of you tricks. End it.” _Poor word choice given the youth’s record of self mutilation on the whim of others,_ Loki thought with a grim smile. Thor shook the young Loki’s shoulders. “Loki!”

The youth took a shaky breath. “I cannot. I- I cannot, Thor.” Loki smiled at the fool’s acceptance of his fate.

Something flickered again in Loki’s hollow chest. Almost like ~~remorse~~ relief.

Yes, relief for a better future. Loki grinned away the flutterings and focused back on Thor, who still gripped his younger brother tight. “Understand, Thorsie, it’s simply in our nature to be monsters. That one you’re holding is just waking up from his own delusions about the matter. With a little help from _Luke_ .” He saw Thor’s eyes widen, surely his outrage was reaching its outer limits. _And surely Thor would see the truth now and pull away,_ Loki thought triumphantly, _even he wasn’t that stupid--_

Anger burning like a hot coal in Thor’s eyes, he drew his Loki close. “No,” Thor growled. Loki hissed and his younger’s mouth fell open. “Never again. _Never_.”

Loki glared at him and thought of just how easy it would be to strike him down. But doing so would ruin careful plans. So he turned on his younger self. “Would you like to tell him of his elder’s stance or should I?” He smirked at the youth’s flinch.

Odin attempted to usurp their conversation, “you have no right to a place in this hall, your very existence in this time betrays the nature of being.” Loki had eyes only for the brothers. Though Thor didn’t release his Loki, he did frown.

“Go on,” Loki grinned, pleased with himself, “I’m sure he’d rather hear it from thy mouth.” He saw the youth close his eyes and mutter something in Thor’s ear. Loki’s grin grew.

“No,” was all Thor managed, hushed and free of his virtue. Thor gripped his Loki visibly tighter, scrunching the fabric of his shirt. _He should have pulled away why hadn’t he--_

“Yes!” Now Loki looked up to the Allfather and Frigga beside him. “You see, Thor and I never quite got over our feuds. Dear young me there just witnessed one and I daresay it was an eyeopener or…” he winked to his youth, “a back breaker.” The young Loki shuddered. “But I daresay we’re both in ruddy health now so no harm done.” He heard Frigga suck in a late sympathetic breath. “And I suspect the state of Midgard too, that dusty little pebble of mine.” That got Thor’s attention and Loki felt the wrath of his righteous gaze settle upon him.

Even as Thor began to shout, “what is this,” Loki watched the conflicted Allfather. _Such fruitful seeds of dissent he’d culminated._ Thor attempted to grab him by the collar but Loki let the hand phase through him with a wink. Thor’s indignation was almost comical in magnitude as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “This vile spectre!” Hand flying to Mjolnir Thor growled.

Loki slipped between Thor and his younger self. “Oh no, what _ever_ shall I do?” Taunting Thor was such fulfilling fun. “He’ll surely kill me,” leaning into the ear of his youth, who radiated anger though didn’t pull away, he whispered, “oh wait, no _he_ shall not. Give it a few thousand years.”

Loki’s younger self muttered back, “you do realize you’ve damned yourself to the dungeons?”

“That, dear, clever child, was the plan.” He smirked and nodded towards Odin, who watched their feud silently. “Dad always around to clean up our messes one way or another.” His younger self blanched. “Time for us to fall again.”

Before Odin spoke, Loki felt him again impose his will. This time the fight was a short, purposeful loss and Loki bowed his head with willing deference. “Due to the volatile and unpredictable nature of this… development and the clear contempt of justice the elder criminal exhibits I, Odin Allfather, condemn the trespasser to the rest of his eternity in the dungeons.” Odin slammed Gungnir to the polished floor.

The Einherjar surrounded Loki immediately.

Loki’s undamned younger self slid from under his grasp but only made it a few steps before Loki help up a hand. Pulling on his seidr, Loki grasp the web of reality and tugged. He chuckled as the very world rippled a death rattle and everyone froze. All attention on him, he smiled innocuously at the Allfather. “I have demands for my peaceful surrender, of course.” To emphasize, he strummed on the strand of reality he gripped and watched everyone wince as their ears no doubt popped.

_Oh, this was living._

But Odin set his jaw stubbornly. “Asgard does not bargain with criminals in its custody.”

Loki narrowed his eyes and strengthened his hold on reality until he grasped at subtler threads. “There are exceptions,” he glanced to the young brothers. “Not unless the lives of its royal family are directly threatened.” Odin started forward but Loki smirked and the two princes collapsed onto the ground, gasping. “Oh, would you look at that.” Going still, Odin seemed frozen in place. Loki counted each tiny movement and scored deeper into the brothers.

Frigga’s hand brushed across Odin’s and for a moment all was silent as the pair of brothers struggled, no doubt feeling as if they were driven through the throat with a stake. Odin stayed quiet as if daring him to continue. _He’d take the dare._ ” Staring the king dead in his one blue eye, Loki sunk his nails into reality until it begged for release.

Thor gagged up blood, splattering the polished floor, unable to even reach for Mjolnir which had fallen by his side.

Beside him, young Loki shuddered a wheezing breath. Loki watched his black painted nails scrabble and chip against the golden ground.

Grinning as wide as his old face would allow, until his cheeks ached, he blinked expectantly at Odin. The pair suffered between the two of them. Slowly, he dove deeper into their agony, drawing a broken moan from one of them. Finally, Odin held up a shaking hand.

“ _Enough,_ ” his voice quaked with fury. “What are thy demands?”

Pulling his hand from the fabric of reality, Loki bowed. “I have but a few.” He pointed to his younger self. “He comes with. Different cell, of course. I would not presume to ask such _exorbitant_ demands as a double housing.” Odin’s eye hardened even as Loki’s voice pitched up with delight. “And a nice bed. You know how unforgiving age is, old man.”

Odin regarded him with the air of a proper king, as if Loki hadn’t just ripped apart his wishes _(how delightful; Thor would have tried to bash his skull in thrice by now)._ “Your demands are nonsensical.”

“Not the first time you’ve called me ‘mad’ by a different name, dad.” He resisted the urge to laugh at Odin’s minute scowl. “Whatever your opinions, my demands- er-- requests still stand.”

The two young princes struggled to a stand while Odin stared him down. Thor growled, “Father, do not.” The young Loki said nothing though his eyes darted wildly as he no doubt formulated some useless plan.

But it was clear to Loki that Odin’s mind had already settled upon the obvious choice. “Silence, Thor,” he muttered before diverting his attentions back to Loki, who raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Loki of a dread future, for your full surrender we grant your demands,” his gaze flickered to the silent younger Loki, “no matter how they pain us.” Frigga dipped her head, though not in time to disguise her horror.

As the rune covered shackles snapped onto the wrists of both Lokis, the youth spoke up, “you should just kill me,” his voice was rough and overloud. Loki tutted at his mouthiness. “Father, you--” Seeming to come to his senses, the young Loki stopped his traitorous tongue before it could betray him.

And the sight of a silenced Loki, the triumph of the moment, the realization that he had done it, in that moment, Loki forgot to guard his traitorous heart. He barely noticed the emotions that seeped through a dangerous crack, turned unstoppable spigot, in his hollow chest.

Thunder sounded throughout the hall as Thor stalked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell so hard for writing Old Loki I switched up the plan for this chapter so I could write from his perspective again


	10. 10: Denial

Loki was doing what he did best, lying.  _ Surely he had to be _ ; Thor paced the palace hallways, fuming. That odd, warped, old creature calling itself Loki, looking like Loki, speaking with Loki’s riddled tongue, it had to be a ruse. A cruel trick meant to amuse that had sorely failed. The words Loki had whispered to him, about Thor’s future self near killing him, about the death of Midgard. Thor was simply playing a fool in one of Loki’s grandest and least humorous jokes.

He would round the corner and Loki would ambush him to poke fun at his worries and ensure him nothing was amiss. And Thor would hit him hard enough to knock him off his feet and finally smack sense into him. Then Loki would insult him with a myriad of colorful names and take his ensuing embrace like a sopping cat but take it nevertheless.

So thoroughly had Thor convinced himself of this that when he did round a corner, seeing nothing instead of his fantasy, his heart fell and his hopeful reality crumbled to ash. The fractured gaze of the warped old Loki was all that remained, seemingly tearing through him even now.

The feeling of choking on reality itself overcame him and he gripped Mjolnir tight as if to ward off an enemy he could not see. Never, in all his battles, had he ever felt so helpless against a foe. Never had he fought someone who could tear reality on a whim, someone who sported such an unfamiliar familiar guise.

_ His Loki couldn’t do that, could he? _

Or could he? It seemed Loki was no less the secret keeper than he once had been, though he no longer needed to. Nothing Thor or the remainder of the Avengers did had drilled that lesson through Loki’s far too thick skull.  _ Perhaps, _ Thor thought bitterly, _ he simply wished not to change.  _ It was a resentful notion, one that could be easily dissuaded should he wish. But generosity felt a momentous stretch at the moment. Loki had lied again; that lie had cost Thor Midgard for only the Norns know how long, cost Jane and Darcy their safety, cost Loki his own freedom.  _ The stubborn fool, thinking himself too good for the aid of others. _

Thor growled, gripping Mjolnir tight to his side, “daft, selfish, thoughtless…” He trailed off as light footsteps rushed towards him. Expecting some guard with worse news still, he sighed and turned on heel.

To his surprise it was Sif who waved him down. “I thought you would be in thy quarters.”

Shaking his head, Thor continued his destinationless walk. “I’d go mad there.”

“Too confined?”

“Aye.” Her presence was a relief, save Loki, she was who knew him best. “Sif, what do you make of this? I--” Thor grimaced in disbelief. “I never thought that- that…” His thoughts piled and jumbled into meaninglessness and he gripped Mjolnir tighter still. Thunder rumbled the halls.

Sif laid a hand on his shoulder like a steadying weight. “Had thee asked me but a year ago I would have pointed blame entirely onto Loki without a moment’s doubt.” She hesitated, as if expecting him to protest. When he raised no ire, she continued, “but after Midgard, I am unsure.” A bittersweet smile crossed her face. “The Allfather is correct in his assumptions that that realm has changed you both.”

They walked past a wide, open courtyard, the sounds of metal clashing against metal were music to Thor’s ears. But he had no time to cross weapons now. Nor did he think he could properly appreciate the elegance of it all with his tangled thoughts in such multitudes. He wondered briefly if this was how Loki felt when he’d slipped into Thor’s room as a child and spilled what seemed like an endless gush of words until he drifted off mid-sentence and Thor was forced to carry him back to his chambers. Though how a child could have such jumbled a mind, Thor couldn’t imagine.

“That dread spectre,” his memories of youth replaced suddenly by the smiling, old not-Loki, Thor scowled. “Do you think it spoke the truth?”

“Does anything that takes the guise of Loki ever speak the whole truth?” It was almost a joke, though the humor in her voice was strained.

Thor laughed wearily, “enough of the truth, then?”

Pausing, Thor watched a squadron of Einherjar march past, noting that the glances he received were nervous and fleeting. If Sif noticed, she failed to comment. “What did that creature do to you and Loki? I only remember the world feeling as if would tear asunder. The things I saw after run through my fingers like water the more I dwell upon them.”

“He--it,” Thor corrected himself, that thing was not his brother, “seemed to pull at the roots of Yggdrasil itself. It felt… like a great many things, none of them pleasant or simple to describe.” Thor shuddered as his mind leapt to the crushing suffocation of his lungs filling with blood that was both corporeal and not.

Sif kept silent until the last of the Einherjar had passed. “I must ask Loki when he makes his inevitable escape, then.” Eyebrows rocketing up, Thor stared at her incredulously, not entirely sure he’d heard her correctly. A twisted, tired smile curved her lips. “I may fight for Asgard above all, but I cannot deny the obvious.”

“And how,” Thor glanced around before pulling her into a alcove. “Would you think he could manage such a feat?”

Still smiling oddly, Sif shrugged. “Him alone? He’d certainly fail. But that spectre… I am less than confident in our ability to contain it. Whatever it may be, I’d want him out of it’s dubious hands as swiftly as possible.” She watched him pointedly. “But it would take a team of highly skilled warriors to break into Asgard’s dungeons. And where you’d find such a group willing to directly disobey Asgard, I…” She poked him hard in the chest. “Do not know. Certainly not  _ here _ .” He stared at her, bemused by her strange behavior. Rolling her eyes, Sif frowned. “A  _ team _ , Thor.”

“Oh, oh!” Gasping, he near smacked himself for his obliviousness. “You really that could work?”

Sif bobbed her head non-decisively. “Think what will work?” She smiled, a bit coy. “I think only for the betterment of Asgard.” Drawing away from him she winked and sauntered off. “I wish you luck with your exploits.  _ Whatever  _ they may be. I may make myself rather scarce so, farewell.” Her dark ponytail bounced as she strutted down the hallway.

It took all of Thor’s will not to sprint for the nearest balcony and fly down to the Bifrost. Heimdall would surely question him and lying to the Gatekeeper was a near impossibility. He thought briefly on the passages Loki used to slip between realms and cursed himself for not pressing his brother further on the matter. _ Loki would have raked him over the coals for such an oversight, _ Thor thought weakly. Preparing himself for an argument with Heimdall, Thor sighed.

When he reached the Gatekeeper, Thor found him surprisingly unquestioning. “Odinson,” Heimdall inclined his head. “To Midgard, I presume?” Unless Thor’s eyes deceived him, Heimdall seemed prepared for that answer. At Thor’s uncertain hesitation, the Gatekeeper again dipped his head. “My king has given me no orders to keep you from the realm now that my observatory has been restored by that thing in the dungeons.” Staring past Thor to things unseen, he frowned. “I cannot see that being clearly, it appears as sunlight through a pond, distorted and strange. But I am sworn to protect Asgard and I sense that  _ thing  _ shall bring naught but harm.” Placing his sword in its center, Heimdall lit the Bifrost as the observatory began to whirl towards Midgard. “And I would see that not come to pass.”

Striken silent by his luck, Thor nodded and stepped forward to be taken by the Bifrost. Before it could, Heimdall continued, “but I cannot let a hostile party into Asgard, Thor Odinson.”

The swirl of colors tugged him and suddenly he was soaring. A smile curled his lips. How he missed this.

He landed on the roof of Stark’s tower and soaked in the New York skyline, marvelling at how much he missed the place in so little a time. But he had not long to contemplate as an explosion rocked the building underneath him. Jerking to attention, Thor saw a puff of green smoke pouring from one of the floors beneath him.

_ Amora _ ; in his haste and the mess of that not-Loki he’d near forgotten her. He smiled grimly at this twist of luck,  _ now there was a person who could traverse the realms as easy as his brother. _ Hoping he still had the advantage of surprise, he leapt down and crashed through the smoking floor. He skidded to a stop only steps from Amora who whirled on on him holding--

For a moment Thor’s mind went blank with shock. Amora slashed towards him with Loki’s scepter, its blue gem shimmered in the green fog. Gaping, he deflected it and returned to his senses. The scepter hummed louder than the cacophony but it was an easy thing to repel in untrained hands. One wrong lunge and Thor knocked it from Amora’s hand and flicked Mjolnir up to her chin. “Stand down,” he growled.

Behind Amora, the rest of the Avengers emerged from the dissipating fog. Stark smirked at her back. “I’d do what the big man says.” Amora glared at Thor, her green eyes seemed to almost glitter with the blue of the scepter.

_ And suddenly he stood atop Stark tower, Chitauri poured from the sky. He gripped Loki’s shoulders, begging his brother to see sense. Loki’s eyes shimmered, almost ice blue, that wasn’t right. Loki blinked and they were green for the briefest moments. “It’s too late, it’s too late to stop it.” _

_ “No, we can together,” Thor heard himself say before his brother stabbed him. _

Amora sneered haughtily, “are you merely going to stand there,” she snarled, breaking his unwanted memories mid-flow. “Do you have a thought in that pretty head of yours?”

Ignoring her venom, Thor shook her. “That thing is dangerous; Amora, you have no idea. It will only bring ruin to you.” He watched Natasha procure a pair of Asgardian handcuffs from a couch and snap them onto Amora’s wrists. He thought briefly of questioning her motives for such a hiding place but decided it was better to leave well enough alone. Instead he turned to Amora again. “Why did you decide to work with that creature?”

She slipped into a flirty purr, “so rude, that  _ creature  _ is your brother.”

“Silence,” Thor snapped, refusing to believe her. He heard the team mutter in confusion. “Why, Amora?” Pressing Mjolnir hard against her chin, he saw her flinch. “What did it offer you?” He ignored the rest of the team, thinking only of how Amora could help him free his brother and destroy the false one. It seemed she cared not to answer his demands.

Noticing Amora inching sideways towards the wretched scepter, Thor kicked it behind him with a growl. There was no time for her antics. “I shall speak bluntly, Enchantress, you have two options.” He saw her surprise and heard it mirrored from his teammates. “Help undo the ruin you caused and walk free,” murmuring of disapproval from the team did nothing to dissuade Thor. His mission was clear and they would see it soon enough. “Or rot evermore in an Asgardian cell.”

Amora bared her pearlescent teeth. “Knowing you, Thor, I’ll end up in a cell either way.” Her point was fair, or it would have been had the circumstances not been so dire.

“If I give thee thy word that you shall walk free at the end of this, would you comply?” Such a pact to someone like Amora was tenuous at its strongest but that shade of Loki left him little choice. He saw her blonde eyebrows shoot up and nodded to dispel her doubts. “My word is the most valuable possession I can lend thee, Amora.”

She threw him a smile both dazzling and dangerous. “I believe you, Odinson.”

It was then, finally, that the Avengers stepped forward to protest. Steve first, “Thor, what’s happening? You can’t just expect us to go along and work with her right after--” Thunder crashed outside and Steve jolted as Thor glared at him.  _ There was no time for this. _ But the soldier held firm. “Don’t try to scare us into submission, Thor. You’re better than that.”

“Also it won’t work,” added Stark behind his suit’s mechanized voice.

His pounding blood urged him to challenge the Midgardian.  _ They did not know fear, they were-- _ Thor glanced viciously to the glittering scepter and shook the twisted anger from his head. “We need her help.”

“To do what,” Stark asked testily. “Does it have to do with Loki? Who, I notice, hasn’t accompanied you back.”

Amora laughed sharply, “oh,  _ does  _ it have to do with Loki.” She grinned wide at the team’s furious glares. “Does it, Thor?” Feigning innocence, an annoying habit Thor knew well from Loki, she batted her eyelashes.

Gritting his teeth, Thor struggled for how best to explain. But the words spilled out with little delicacy. “Loki-- a Loki shade,” Thor’s stomach curdled at the thought of the old, terrible smile. “Returned from the far flung future to ensure that my brother becomes him and has succeeded in locking both he and my brother in Asgard’s dungeons.” The team had little reaction other than confusion. “I fear the longer we delay in rescuing him--”

“Rescuing,” Steve broke in, frowning. “Thor, what--”

“I intend to storm Asgard to retrieve him and vanquish the shade Loki before he can enact his plans. But I need thy help and her,” her jerked towards Amora, “to get us into the palace unseen. Standing idly by, I fear, will lead to catastrophe. The anger in Loki’s heart grows,” he winced at his own words, knowing them true, “and that shade is talented in unholy arts, of ways I cannot fathom.”

For a moment all was silent as the Midgardians looked among each other. “Hey, Thor,” Clint finally uttered, “what the fuck?” He sounded breathless, “what the actual, ungodly--”

“Oh,” Amora interrupted snidely, “it’s very godly. I’d say twice as so.” When none responded she continued, “because there’s  _ two  _ of them--” Thor let lightning spark from Mjolnir across to her and smirked as she flinched.

He cared not if it was the scepter that propelled his anger. “I need your help,” appealing to them again, Thor kept a careful eye on Amora.

Steve stowed his shield across his back. “You want to commit treason against your own government?” Thor nodded,  _ it had to be done,  _ he told himself, _ for Asgard, for Midgard, for the safety of all Nine Realms.  _ “You really think we can pull this off?” 

Scowling, Thor hesitated, knowing he couldn’t lie to them. “I know not. Our success is as likely as our failure. But I will try with or without thy help. I understand why you would wish not to involve yourselves with this.”

Again, the Midgardians glanced among themselves. Stark turned to him. “Are you kidding? Jailbreak: Asgard sounds like it’ll be the second wildest night of my life. And- hell- I might get to punch  _ two _ Lokis in the face for being dicks. Win, win.” His statement, odd and bitter as Thor found it, was a relief.

It was soon followed by the captain. “Well, it won’t be the first beach I’ve stormed.” His eyes were weary but reassuring.

Natasha next. “You boys will get your ass kicked without someone who actually knows how to infiltrate buildings.”

And Clint. “I’m racking up a count of things Loki owes me. This sounds like the perfect thing to add to my list,” he laughed to himself.

Finally Bruce, who rubbed his neck nervously but smiled. “I’ve always wanted to see Asgard.”

With each of their pledges came an overwhelming sense of rightness, that the world was repairing its wrongs. “My friends, thank you,” Thor sighed, his heart warm. “This will be dangerous,” he cautioned them but they each shrugged off the warning and he smiled wide. “Your courage is that of which bards sing.”

Waving a metal covered hand, Stark flipped up his facemask. “Stop, you’ll make me blush.” He grew serious moments later, “but actually, I think we all deserve to have a few questions answered.”

Thor reigned in a sigh, he knew he owed them that much. “Aye, that is fair. First, though,” he turned on Amora, who stood silently. “Will you help us and ensure your freedom?”

Amora chewed on her dark lips for a long moment. Her gaze on Thor was unsettlingly hungry and contained multitudes he could not decipher. “I…” she started with a long breath. “That old Loki told me helping him would change my future for the better. He told me  _ you  _ locked me up and that I died in Asgard’s cells. Because of you.”

He knew not whether the statement was true. “Amora, perhaps in that future I did. Perchance I still shall in this future. But now I swear that you shall go free.” He put a hand on her cuffs, ready to release them. “I swear on my honor as a prince of Asgard.” Part of him wished he had Loki’s tongue to convince her. But all he had was himself and so he said words Loki never could convince any of in hopes that they would make do.

Finally, after the longest of silences, Amora inclined her head. “I accept, Thor Odinson. I shall get to Asgard and free your idiot brother from his cell. And then I shall go free without any of you,” she glared at the team, “trying to stop me.”

Motioning for Natasha’s key, Thor smiled. “You shan’t regret it.”

Natasha fished the elaborate key out but held up a hand. “I super don’t like this but it’s necessary, I guess. Before we let her go, though.” Natasha scooped up the scepter, gripping it nonchalantly in one hand. Alarmed, Thor started but she tossed him the key. “Isn’t the first time I’ve held it. And what, you want me to shoot Asgardians with guns?” Natasha’s point made, Thor relented and released Amora from her holdings.

When she did not immediately disappear, he knew their deal was sealed.

And, though he wished to run back to Asgard immediately, there were questions to be answered and explanations of Asgard’s inner workings to be given. The questions were mostly helmed by Tony. “Sooo ‘ _ future Loki, _ ’ huh?” Thor nodded grimly. “That wasn’t how Loki described time travel. You change one thing you break it all, that’s how I understood it.”

At a loss, Thor shrugged. “Do any really know? That  _ thing _ , whether it be Loki or not, is as real as you or I. It’s power is true and dangerous. Amora,” he glanced to the blonde Enchantress, who shot nasty glares at Jane, who, with the other girls, had joined them. “Do you know how it is he is here?”

Tearing herself away, she pursed her lips. “No,” she snipped shortly. “His answers were never straight. And his mind clearly was on more important matters so I did not press the issue.”

Tony turned on Amora. “Why did you say he hates us?”

She scoffed, “shall I count the complaints? There were near thousands.” Concern stirring in Thor’s chest, he frowned to the Avengers. But she continued unworried. “Mostly some betrayal or something of the sort. I did not press him on that because it was when he most resembled his current self, annoying, sentimental. Though undeniably more angry.” Thor’s stomach lurched, _ he'd seen that fresh anger boiling under Loki's surface. _

“Enough, we’ve wasted time already!” Thor stood, ignoring his worries. “It is now or never.”

“Hey, wait,” Bruce spoke up nervously. “Couldn’t we use more back up? More godly back up--”

“If you are thinking of Sif she has already wiped her hands of the issue, though she wishes us luck.” To his surprise, Bruce shook his head.

“No, I figured as much. Uh, “glancing up Thor frowned at Bruce. “Loki’s got his kids, right? Couldn’t they help?”

Before Thor could interject, Tony did. “Hard no,” he scowled bitterly, “I already tried and they’re not having any of it. Hel, Leah, whatever, she… turned me down.” His words veiled what Thor guessed was likely a rather unpleasant experience.

Not one that surprised him, though. “Thou should be more careful with them; they are not to be trifled with frivolously.”

“Yeah,” Tony replied, deadpan, “I figured that out.” He turned to Bruce, still scowling with displeasure. “So, they’re assholes and they’re off the table.”

Thor pursed his lips disapprovingly at the insulting statement but said nothing on the matter. “It is just us, friends.” The group fell silent, nodding in grim recognition. “I cannot promise we will succeed but I swear on my life I shall try not to let harm come to you in my realm. Remember, these are not Midgardians. Einherjar are highly skilled warriors and they are Asgardian. Your main advantage will not be strength,” he glanced to the captain, who ran his hands across the edges of his shield, “because they will out-match you there. Your advantage is what they think of you, as just weak Midgardians.” Sucking in a breath to steady his pounding heart, Thor managed a smirk. “Prove them wrong, show them the worth of Midgardians.”


	11. 11: Realization

Loki’s elder self said they would be confined to different cells. He lied; Loki knew so and did nothing to voice dissent, Loki supposed that made him an accomplice. And he continued to lie for his elder self every time Frigga sent down an illusion assuring him that they would free him once they were certain old Loki could be contained.

_ If the God of Lies was what they wanted, then he was what they’d get,  _ he thought each time he smiled and spat lies to her face.

“Oh, it  _ is  _ what they want, Loki,” his elder self stepped through the pale wall only moments after Frigga’s vision disappeared, as if the wall were cloth, and answered Loki’s silent musings without a trace of his once smugness. Loki knew not if the sentimentalism was just a trick. “When I fell from grace again it shocked none. Those who traded snide ‘ _ I told you sos _ ’ numbered in the thousands.” Loki winced as his elder self sat on the bed beside him but did not pull away. It was clear now he could not run from this Loki any more than he could run from the blood that coursed through his veins. “They wanted me for my role in the Norn’s story. They don’t want a Loki who can change. They want the God of Evil because he sets their lives into normalcy. I was someone to fight against, that’s what Asgard needed to survive.”

The words grated on Loki’s raw thoughts. “Weren’t there others to do that job? The Ti-- Thanos?” The name stuck icy knives to his neck.

If it did for his elder self, he hid the fear well. Instead a twisted smile curved his face. “Oh, of course. There were others, we took care of them like proper heros. Thor- Thor and I, together. Thanos, yes, someone we had intimate knowledge of, was a challenge but we had help. That government snafu. The Dark Elves,” Loki frowned, concerned, “they cost us, cost  _ me  _ some betrayals, but we stopped them in the end.” Old Loki shook his head, laughing bitterly. “Stark’s stupidest guilt spawned plan yet, the A.I., we solved in an afternoon trifle. I helped and I helped and I helped until there was nothing left for Asgard or Midgard to hate but themselves.” His smile turned into a sneer, Loki watched his elder’s hands begin to tremble even as they clutched at the fine cloth bedsheets. “And they couldn’t have that, could they? Not when the  _ God of Lies _ was among them, no!”

Loki flinched at his emotion and realized it was the first of its kind he’d heard from the old Loki. “You changed, though. Why did you become what they wanted you to be?” He forced himself to look over to his elder, _ really look _ , and saw someone whose face was closed to the world but boiled just under the surface with fury and something more that caused an ache in Loki’s chest the longer he observed it.

A crooked grin flickered across the old Loki’s face for a moment before doubling back into cold frustration. “That Loki, he’s an  _ odd  _ one, he’s always been strange.” It was a phrase Loki had heard many a time. “That Loki,” his elder’s voice shifted sourly, “he tried to destroy Jotunheim in his madness; I heard I attempted to murder Thor. I heard he’s not Aesir. He always was  _ odd _ , a liar and a cheat.” There were words Loki knew less well, though they sounded easily spewn from Asgard’s gossipers. And bitterer still dove his elder self. “That  _ Loki _ ,” the name was a curse, “he stands by Thor’s side as if he hasn’t betrayed all that Asgard stands for. As if he deserves to be called Odinson. He will always be a liar and a murderer no matter how he’s tricked them. Once one, always one; you’ll see.” Old Loki scowled, “ _ they’ll _ see.”

“And I presume they did,” Loki asked, knowing the answer. None understood the fury and creativity of a Loki better than one. “Did you enjoy it?” Such a question Loki had often asked himself.  _ Had he enjoyed tormenting his brother and the Avengers? Yes, he laughed all the while but had it only been to trick himself? _

Clearly such questions were on the mind of old Loki as he smiled, all teeth and no life. “What was your answer, Loki?”

_ I do not know. _

His face betrayed his silence and coaxed a barking laugh from old Loki. “Loki shall be Loki; so the saying goes.” Old Loki grinned like a fox now and leapt up. His hands no longer shook as he threw them into the air as if presenting the pale cell as something tremendous. “One Loki, no matter their prowess, can be dealt with. Put them in a box, repel them back at each scheme; the eternal beatable villain, no matter his cruelty. Do you want that, little Loki?” His voice was breathless with emotions undecipherable in their multitudes.

“No,” the word slipped out, “never.” Loki shook his head as old Loki’s story rooted firmly within him, a far too easy reality to believe in this cell. “I wanted out of this box.”

“As did I. And yet one Loki cannot change. I know because I tried.” Old Loki offered out a ringed hand, grinning wide, eyes sparkling. “But two Lokis, who could stop us? We could break the box they made for us, no longer would we need to follow their rules when we could be greater and worse than they imagined possible. You do not have to become Loki Laufeyson, ruler of Jotunheim and a dead Midgard, nor Loki son of none, a creature wholly alone in his very being, nor dead in the Void, like we once wanted.” Loki winced but stared at the outstretched hand as his elder continued, “we could be Lokis, who shake off the restraints of the Norns, who shan't be betrayed by those we once held dear. You do not have to be alone.”

Alone.  _ Alone _ . The expression haunted him. He who was neither a proper Jotun nor Aesir, neither hero nor villain, a sorcerer in a field not meant for him. He was Loki and he was alone.

But no longer. He stared at old Loki’s outstretched hand and hesitated. The golden barrier of the cell hummed a low note that seeped into the walls. This awful, twisted shadow of himself, old, angry, powerful beyond imagining, stood before him in a slim black suit and smiled. This old Loki who had wormed his way back through time to damn him; who’d orchestrated this cell, this meeting, this question. This Loki who undeniably sought to harm those he had tentatively called friends and had succeeded in doing so. This Loki who had poisoned him and hurt him  _ (but no worse than he had hurt himself). _ This Loki who was a manifestation of everything he hated, standing here, telling him it was too late and that there were no good outcomes. Who told him to embrace the bad for it was all there could be.

This Loki offering a hand in twisted brotherhood _ (the only kind Loki knew) _ and a chance to change even if that change meant more of the same.  _ But it was change, a way out of the box, _ whispered a longing voice in his head.

Loki glanced from his elder’s hand to his own. White light glinted off of dark, chipped nails. 

The Darcy woman’s hands had worked with the dexterity of a healers and the ferocity of a warriors. The smell of artificial chemicals had afflicted him with a grievous headache though he had complained not. He had sipped on liquor careful not to smear the stuff under her thousand reminders. She had acted as if he was not the monster he knew himself to be, as if he had not put her life in danger by his very existence. Thor’s Jane had debated with him, whispering over the odd movie they watched, about her work. He had attempted an explanation of the Bifrost only to be shushed down by Tony. When they had asked to be dazzled he performed gladly,  _ for his friends _ . And they had applauded as he knew they would, like proper  _ friends _ . Their eyes had held no lies. No animosity

“How did they abandon you,” he choked out, tearing himself away from his chipped, imperfect nails. “What--” his mouth suddenly went dry and he swallowed down his fears, “what did it?”

Old Loki’s mouth fell open for the briefest second, shock and hurt crossing his face. Then he snapped his jaw shut hard and scowled. “I--”

An explosion rocked the cellblock and Loki swayed.

The last voice he expected to hear in Asgard’s bowels cut through the cacophony. “Everybody freeze,” Tony shouted with his mechanized voice, “we’re here to chew bubblegum and rescue a mischief god, and we’re all outta bubblegum!”

Beside Loki, his elder self scoffed, “ugh, I near forgot he did that.”

Einherjar rushed past the room as bursts of plasma and lightning screamed through the air. Prisoners leapt up in their cells to get a good view of the action. But Loki couldn’t move, he was trapped by his own thoughts.  _ How did they betray you. Howdidtheydoit. Tell me. Howhowhowhow-- _

Old Loki grabbed him by the shoulders, “Loki, do not make my mistake, they will hurt you. They will!” He was near pleading, sounding so much like that Loki who had hung off the Bifrost a life ago. The Loki who let go.

Through the cacophony, Loki’s ears picked up on a bursting hum and his heart skipped a beat. Seconds later, blue energy threw a guard past his cell. Old Loki’s grip on his arms tightened for a half second as he too seemed to recognize the sound.

A howling wind, no doubt wrought by Thor’s fury, whipped through the cramped hallways and suddenly the Avengers were upon them. Their faces shimmered golden beyond the barrier. In Natasha’s hands lay his old scepter. On Thor’s face was a thunderous outrage, eyes trained on old Loki. For a long moment Loki’s breath caught in his throat. These were proper heros that had come for him. The thought was too outlandish to latch onto.

Barton’s face went slack with shock. “Holy shit,” he near shouted over the roars of a distant Hulk, “there  _ are  _ two of them.” All eyes seemed caught in the pull of the old Loki but when Loki tore himself from the team he saw his elder staring at him.

“Loki,” old Loki’s voice teetered dangerously, “Loki ple--”

Thor’s thunder shook the very stone itself and Loki grasp tight to his elder self, the only thing to keep from falling. _ Falling, always falling.  _ “Back away from him, shade!” Loki saw his other self tear desperation away and bury it in spitting wrath.

“You dare try to take away my one true birthright, my very self?!” His temper manifested in hissing waves that lashed against the edges of the cell. “After  _ everything _ ,” old Loki screamed, irate, a far distance from the amused man watching Loki writhe as poison decimated him. “ _ You _ come to ruin it. You, always  _ you! _ ” As his elder self spat, broken suddenly into something like a spiteful child, Loki clung to him, afraid of falling away into non-being.  _ How could two Lokis exist when one seemed to suck all fury from the world and leave all emotion grey and withering for the other? _

_ What was a Loki without anger? _

Old Loki’s trimmed nails dug into Loki’s arms, pinpricking blood. As his elder’s fury built, slamming against the shuddering barrier, Loki murmured, “stop, you’ll bring this cell down upon us.” But he was ignored by his self.

_ Ha _ , Loki snorted at the ironic microcosm playing out before him even as the air itself quivered underneath the fighting siblings who were not. And, for the first time, Loki was on the outside. A spectator watching his own brawl played out in front of him. Unable to find vitriol, left with only the stark truth.

“Silence,” Thor snarled, ignoring how the team battled back Einherjar around him, eyes only for old Loki. “You  _ hurt  _ my brother--”

“I am-- you have no brother,” the other Loki hissed. “You only have a shadow,” he turned back to Loki, gesturing violently with one gnarled hand. “Witness this, he needs me because I am the Loki that balances. He spits your name but I am who matters to him. Thor needs Loki as an opposite more than he needs one as a brother! You know it’s the truth!” Old Loki shook him roughly, as if attempting to rock sense into him. Even as he did, Loki watched his anger double back into desperation.

“Do I?” Loki murmured, dazed but not quite empty. In his anger’s absence had been left a certain understanding.

From beyond the golden barrier, Thor’s mouth fell open. He turned to Loki for the first time and his bright blue eyes were filled with hurt. “He lies! I-- that’s mad talk, Loki, you must know that!”

“Must I?” A crooked smile crossed Loki’s face and he heard himself chuckle at the absurdity of it all. “Tell me what else I know, you two.” Old Loki’s hand was cold on his arm but the touch, he realized quietly, did not disgust him. His muted reply earned him frowns.

Stepping forward, repulsor glowing, Tony growled, “alright, I’ve heard enough. Jailbreak time. Standback, Lokes.” Responding to the command, old Loki scooted back and Loki reluctantly followed. Tony’s shot rebounded off the golden barrier with a shrieking high note that forced Loki to clap his hands across his ears. The ringing lasted far past its production.

Before Tony could try again Amora sauntered up to the barrier and winked at both Lokis. “Hello boys,” she frowned briefly. “Boy? Oh, what’s it matter.” Her hands ghosted the barrier, glowing green. With a lightshow that Loki squinted at, the barrier disappeared. “If it were up to me, I’d let you both rot.”

For a moment all was still. Then Thor leapt through the entrance with Mjolnir trained on old Loki. “You, slipping lies to my--”

“Thor,” Loki snapped, stopping his brother midstep. “Do you really think I could ever be willingly fed lies? By  _ myself? _ ” By the was Thor’s face fell, Loki knew his response. An odd calm settled upon Loki as he glared between his brother and his elder self, both of whom stared at him. “Ah,” he sighed, beginning to grasp what it was he felt. “Ah…”

“Loki, listen to me,” Thor’s voice wavered, angry and raw. “I cannot know what goes on in thy heart but I do know that you are my brother, not my- my,” he glared at the old Loki even as his eyes glimmered. “Not my shadow. Not my second, nor my opposite. You are my  _ brother _ .” Every word seemed to pain him with sincerity Loki could neither fathom nor replicate.

It was a fine sentiment only Thor could supply. Loki watched him, exhausted of the performance.

“Loki,” old Loki hissed frantically. “I--”A burst of blue energy blasted him back, cracking him against the wall, smoking. 

Loki winced and stared at Natasha, who held the scepter out. “What,” she shrugged at his frown. “He’s doing the liar thing. I shut him up.” 

But Loki felt himself leaping towards his elder, moving without thought. He kneeled beside old Loki, suddenly unsure of what he was doing.  _ This was some perverse self defense instinct, _ the thought struggled to take hold within him. None of this was right. He heard cries of confusion from the team that echoed his own mind.

His elder crawled up from the hole in the wall. Cold fire sparked in his cracked green eyes as he glared at the team. Loki watched, frozen by his own thoughts. “You shouldn’t even be here! We pushed you away!” His fury was raw and confused. “Why won’t you just give it up? You did for me! You  _ left! _ ”

“Buddy,” Tony aimed at Loki’s elder. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

The world slowed as old Loki took a step forward. Loki felt the familiar tug of reality being strangled as his own hesitations seemed to chain themselves around his body. He saw realization on Thor’s face. The world went dread still for all but the old Loki. “You left me alone. Alone!” The very air seemed to strain and creak. “After everything I did for you, with you!” Old Loki pointed at them with a trembling, accusing hand. “I offered to extend your lives,” Loki went cold, staring at the team. _ Oh. Oh _ , Loki struggled against his bonds. He finally understood who this creature was in front of him. “But you wouldn’t! You left me!” Old Loki lunged for the frozen team as Loki continued to strain against the bonds holding him.

There were tears in his elder’s shattered eyes. Loki briefly wondered how fully a hollow chest could carry the raw fury that throbbed through every syllable of old Loki’s words. Or, perhaps it was simply madness that Loki heard.

He was unsure if a difference existed between the two.

Old Loki grabbed a static Steve by the face and held him aloft. “You,” he hissed, unmistakably lost in a scene both long passed and yet to come. “I thought you’d be one of the last but no! You pushed too far; you always pushed too far. Idiot!” He struck Steve across the face, spewing bileous words straight from his hollow chest. “Awful, stubborn, foolish lout! I couldn’t-” Old Loki hiccuped, breath catching, and Loki managed to shake off some of his bonds to steal a step towards his elder self. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a frozen Thor watching him. “How was I supposed to fix all of that  _ bleeding?!  _ How, Rogers?!”

Otherwise frozen, Steve’s blue eyes widened as he realized what Loki had only moments before about the elder Loki. Any fear that had been flickering within his eyes disappeared, replaced by tired pity.

Old Loki paid no mind to either the pity nor Loki slipping up behind him, lost among his memories as he was. He threw Steve to the ground with a disgusted noise, closer to a strangled sob, and turned on Natasha, still holding the scepter. “Spider, clever spider!” Loki winced at the old naming. “Clever  _ human  _ spider, always two steps ahead of the rest.” Old Loki hovered paces from Natasha, eyeing the scepter with a wary distaste that didn’t seem to mitigate his fury. “And I thought I was the model for that Midgardian saying. The one with curiosity and the dead cat. No, no!” He cackled, a maddening sound that ripped through the silent, straining air. “Truly Midgardians do their sayings the finest justice.” Loki tried not to flinch or lose his meager grasp on his movements.

Inching closer, Loki watched his elder glare at Clint with lips drawn into a close sneer, though his eyes still glimmered with emotions unshed. “Idiot,” was all old Loki snapped before turning past the Hulk with a shudder to Tony.

All was silent for a long moment as old Loki contemplated Tony. Whatever was to be said, Loki wished not to hear it, nothing good would come. But the spell that held him back refused to break and it wasn’t bending quick enough.

“You,” old Loki prodded at the facemask of Tony’s suit and hooked a finger underneath the metal. He ripped it away, exposing Tony’s face to the light. “Fix that flaw, moron,” he spat the insult though it lacked true venom. Moron, moron, moron,” repeating the sound until he was breathless, old Loki stared at Tony, the glimmering that had been now unmistakably welled to tears. Seeming to remember himself, Loki’s elder drew back, closer towards Loki’s outstretched hand, and revived the sneer. “And I thought  _ I  _ was selfish,” his eyes were red rimmed as his mask threatened to slip further.

But as the distance between them closed, Loki found it harder to buck his elder’s spell. The air was like stone to claw at.

“You’re all--”

The doors to the dungeons slammed open and with the sound of crumbling rubble the spell that held them dissolved. On the stairs stood Odin, flanked by Heimdall and Einherjar. The stone surrounding them moaned under the strain of the shattered spell and Loki flinched at the wrath he saw in the Allfather’s gaze. Near immediately, Loki felt the Allfather’s will looming down upon him, demanding him to stand down. But Loki lunged forward, finally free, and grabbed onto his elder’s arm. They met eyes for the briefest moment as the taut wire stretched across them frayed and strained. In that moment Loki enacted a spell to hide them from Heimdall’s gaze.

Then the world went dark as it warped around them.


	12. 12: Restart

Loki’s chambers were scrupulously tidy when he and his elder appeared within them and destroyed the silence. Old Loki pulled from his grasp, knocking over a mirror that shattered on the floor. “Have you gone mad?”

“No,” Loki flicked a wrist towards the doors, sealing them tight from within. 

“Then have you picked me so that I can help you.” Something close to hope echoed in his voice. “We, together--”

“No,” Loki repeated. The fury that rolled off of his elder filled the whole room with a shrill ringing that rattled Loki’s bones. Without looking at his elder self, Loki rummaged through the many trinket filled drawers, unsure what it was he searched for. Old Loki’s presence approached him and Loki knew he wished to strike “So what, are we going to fight? Do you not think enough of our blood’s been shed for nothing? We’re both culprits in that.”

Loki’s rebuttal quelled old Loki’s advance as his footsteps slowed to a stop. “We- we both have more blood to shed. You especially.” The words were meant to worm themselves into Loki’s anger, but there was no purchase to be found.

“Yes, well…” Plucking a crudely smelted silver and black magpie from a drawer, Loki rolled it across his right palm. One of its wings was crumpled at an odd angle, the carved feathers were clumsy and uneven. “I think we’ve shed our  _ own  _ more than our fair share. Perhaps it’s time for a change.” Crossing the room, Loki held out the silver and black bird. “Do you remember this?” He finally looked up to his elder, smirking wearily.

Old Loki glared at him, not paying mind to the trinket. “I told you, I  _ showed  _ you, they won’t let us change.”

“Mmm…” Loki hummed, watching his elder fume at his skepticism. “I think you’re lying.” Old Loki recoiled but Loki stopped him mid snarl, sitting on the edge of the neatly made bed. “Not just to me, but to yourself. You walked back through time to change us. Whoever heard of such a thing? You parted time to change  _ me _ .”

“To make you into me faster!” Old Loki snapped back, visibly wavering between his fury and the glimmering of his eyes. “That’s the inevitability of if!”

“Maybe. Or maybe not.” Loki shrugged. “You came back and did  _ terrible  _ things, hurt me, hurt the team, hurt Amora even if she may not realize it. You went and cut the strings between me and the things… the people I hold dear.” Loki gulped at the realization. Without hate to hide himself in, Loki felt like a raw nerve. “You threw a fit and tore everything down that you worked so hard to make, that  _ we  _ fought and bled for. And in doing so made sure I knew what kind of Loki you were and what kind of future you- and I, would have made.” As Loki rolled the crude metal bird across his palms it grew warm in his hands. Dark nail polish glinted like the black of the birds wings. “You broke everything because you could. But the shattered pieces of what I knew managed made themselves into something new.”

Finally, old Loki sat beside him. Some of the age he seemed to carry disappeared and wrinkles with it. The frown that curved his face held no venom. “I thought… Fine, maybe it was a bad plan.”

“Our plans made of ire have a poor track record,” chuckling at himself, Loki stared out the balcony. 

“I hate you.” Old Loki drew his knees to his chest.

Smirk growing, Loki dipped his head. “So if you couldn’t be happy, then no Loki could. Why now, why not go back to when we were but a boy?”

Old Loki reached for the bird and Loki handed it over. “Thor,” he hissed out the name with reluctance, like picking at an old wound. “When we were younger, one of the times we explored the markets. He bought a lump of silver and wished to mold it into a necklace for a girl he fancied.” He frowned, “or was it--”

“Bracelet, it was a bracelet.” Loki corrected.

“Aye. And we thought that was a ridiculous waste.” Old Loki barked a laugh less bitter than his others. “As if this wasn’t.” Loki watched him bend one of the crooked wings in an attempt to set it in its proper place. To no avail, it bent back under the weight of its old mold. “So we stole the silver from him and replaced it with tin. We made this and he couldn’t get the tin to smelt correctly. He never found out. But what--”

Holding a hand out, Loki glanced from the bird to his elder self. “We wanted something nice and we wanted to make it ourselves, the feelings of others be damned. We didn’t do the best or cleanest job.” As the bird passed hands again, Loki sparked a flame to life on his thumb. He held it into the bird, willing the fire to not harm him and only soften the metal. Old Loki stared at him, eyes sad. “But, it could have been worse. All we needed was a little more heat and time to make it into what we wanted.” The metal glowed red and wilted in Loki’s hands. He flicked off the fire and ran an index finger across the bird, shaping it. “The product was ugly and clumsy, certainly. But that thing we wanted was there. The composition simply needs to be reformed.” Loki drew back his hands at let the bird cool.

“That’s an insufferable analogy,” old Loki sniffed, lying his head on his knees. “I’m not that annoying, am I?”

Eyeing the pristine magpie, Loki laughed shortly. “Mmh, I suppose you must be, mustn't you?”

Snorting, old Loki frowned at the balcony. Where had been anger seemed to have melted into exhaustion the kind Loki had seen in his twisted self’s own time. “You are me, after all.”

“Unfortunately we are Loki.” Holding up his freehand, Loki let the light catch the chipped, dark nail polish painting his nails. “You lashed out and hurt the person you hurt best. Tore them apart and laughed because it's what had happened to you. What you had let happen to you. Though… you let them cherish what they had to lose, what you lost.”

Old Loki glared at him dully. “Why are you speaking in third person?”

Time was of the essence and Loki knew it. But he could feel the twisted version of himself softening. “It sounds better. We’ve all done it.” Standing, Loki waited for his other self to join him. “Maybe they didn't let you change. Or maybe you didn't realize how hard it was to change and they waited until it was too late to make the attempt. And yet, you… let me realize how change happens and it  _ hurts _ . Because change hurts, the Midgardians told me that. Because of you. I would not have heard it without your destruction. The idea that  _ Loki _ , of all the gods, can’t change? That’s the wildest lie I’ve ever heard. And I finally saw that from the outside; I saw that repetition, Loki hurts Thor, Thor fights Loki, ad nauseam with new levels of drama, blood, and death added atop the pile each time, from the outside for the  _ first  _ time. I saw the anger, so much anger it threatened to crush everything, that we both have, as an outsider. You did awful things with that anger, so did I. Things that aren’t forgivable.”

Old Loki didn’t stand, ducking his head away.

“I cannot forgive you for what you did. But you don’t need my forgiveness. That’s never what you wanted.” Loki pocketed the bird, slipping it into his sleeve, and waited. 

Finally, old Loki raised his head, looking so much like the Loki that fell what felt like an age ago. “I thought I was catching you… I just wanted…”

“I know.” Holding out his right hand, Loki waited until old Loki took it and stood, putting his left hand on the twisted versions shoulder.

“What about them? Their answer will never…  _ never _ change.” The shattered Loki scowled. “How… how can you…”

_ Bleeding. Two steps ahead. Idiot. The flaw. _

Loki shuddered. “We knew… we had to know. We cannot be the only ones to change, to be given a choice. It's not them… it's…” Loki felt the shudder continue through to his shattered self. “I'll catch you,” he murmured. “I'll catch you.”

“How? If we are the same, how does this change?” Age melted from the twisted Loki as his voice reflected an uncertain vulnerability.

Loki bit his lip, wondering the same. The answer he found made him laugh humorlessly at the absurdity of it. “You’re a cautionary tale. We need those… The scepter, we know what it holds.” The alarm that flashed across the twisted Loki’s face quickly succumbed to cautious acknowledgement. “This may… break things. The future. Your future.” Loki watched his not-elder’s eyes flicker to a distant place.

After a long moment, he nodded. “That’s a risk.” He breathed in deep. “Do you think it will be very dramatic? Or that it shall work at all?”

“I don’t know,” Loki admitted and saw his twisted self smirk with the same morbid amusement. “But I won’t let you fall alone.”

The air buzzed around Loki’s shade’s hand and the scepter appeared in it at the same moment Loki’s ears popped. “This thing has been used to hurt enough. More than enough.” It floated free in the air between them, a specter of the Titan they shared, the only who could.

“We shall see if that shall change.” Loki shook off the Titan’s ghost and reached for the blue stone at the same moment his elder did. “Or… no,  _ we _ shall not.” Fear bubbled in his stomach. They met eyes, the same blue-green eyes, reflecting a bright blue against the stone. “I cannot forgive you. For any of it.”

With his free hand, the twisted Loki squeezed tight on Loki’s arm, smiling with grim contentment. “Perhaps someone else can.”

 

**00000**

 

When people talked about the fury of the gods, Tony had laughed. Then he met Thor and that changed big time.  _ Then  _ he met Odin and everything changed again, cosmically so. The whole world shuddered underneath the guy’s rage. But the world had to wait because Odin had rounded them up and began the search for the two Lokis with the weird guy with golden eyes.

Then there were the two Lokis themselves, a concept that made Tony’s head ache. The reminder of his own mortality hadn't helped. And of course that goddamn asshole had broken off his face mask and the other one had just watched.

Two really were worse than one. One Loki he could clock and pace and try to keep up with. Two Lokis ran circles around all of them, even Father Christmas and Tony got the impression not much could do that.

But nothing was as bad as the headache that came when Loki’s scepter disappeared out of Natasha’s hands. Or the crippling fear that the two Lokis had conspired to make it happen.

Especially when  _ their _ Loki had acted so weirdly just before fleeing. Not quite agreeing with his older, meaner copy but definitely not agreeing with Thor either.

Tony tried fruitlessly not to overthink it.

The golden eyed guy, though, finally found their ‘targets’ with the scepter and everyone prepared themselves, unsure of what they’d find. The palace was labyrinthian, no less impressive than the last time Tony had been there, he saw the shock and awe echoed across the team. But they had no time to marvel standing outside of Loki’s doors.

Odin threw them open with a roar of wind and the Avengers rushed forward.

To find Loki, sitting with his knees drawn to his chest, alone, on the golden floor.

The sight was odd enough to make Tony stop short, with the rest of the team surrounding him. Steve was the first to find his voice. “L- Loki?”

“Indeed,” Loki looked up to them, eyes shadowed and hard.

Steve glanced to Tony, who shrugged uncertainly. Without the mask of his suit he felt uneasy and exposed. If the older, stronger Loki jumped them he wasn't sure what they could do about it. “Loki,” Steve started forward as Loki rose. “Where is he? The other one?”

Something close to a smile flickered across Loki’s face. “Gone.”

Tony blinked; the simplicity of the statement struck him like a slap. “Gone? Like, gone gone?” Glancing around, Tony spotted what looked like shattered remains of the blue stone of the scepter strewn across the floor. His chest tightened.

He watched as Loki bobbed his head noncommittally, a gesture he'd perfected years ago. “In all ways that matter, aye.” Loki flexed his right hand and took a step towards them, his smile was tight.

Tony wanted to feel relieved but there was something off about Loki’s statement that made him pause. “What’s that mean? Where’d he go?” The longer he stared at Loki the more uncertain he became. Everything about Loki looked a little off, like a reflection. It made Tony’s skin crawl.

Loki picked at his nails, Tony watched black paint chip to the ground. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Tony opened his mouth to complain about the vagueness but Loki held up a finger. “The point is, he’s not me,” Loki’s smile loosened to a grin. “And I’ll not be him. I'm out of that box.”

From the doorway, Odin strode forward. “To hear these words and feel their truth lifts a weight from my shoulders. Knowing my son’s life is no longer threatened is worthy of celebration.” He clapped Loki on the shoulder and Tony saw Loki’s eyebrows shoot up, looking a little like a deer in headlights. “However,” Odin turned on them, single eye hard. “Before me I see seven criminals.” In half a second, Tony felt what had to be magic pushing him down, then felt the guards that had accompanied them shackle him. Shock overwhelmed any anger Tony could feel. “Who must be dealt with shortly. Einherjar.” The last Tony saw of Loki was his grin frozen in place as Odin turned back to him. “We have much to discuss,” Odin’s voice faded away as they were hauled from the room.

The strange, smooth white prison cells vaguely resembled an elevator. And, as Tony quickly decided, this was the worst possible crowd to be stuck in an elevator with. Thor paced the perimeter, wringing his hands. Steve inspected the golden barrier keeping them contained, muttering to himself. Bruce, back down from Hulk size, sat in the smack middle of the floor with poorly fitting Asgardian robes thrown across him. At least Clint and Natasha were reasonable, leaning casually against the wall like they’d done this a thousand times. Worst was Amora, who after spending the first ten minutes complaining to Thor, had retreated to a corner to glare at all of them.

At first Tony didn't even recognize Loki when he finally appeared on the other side of the barrier. Tony blinked and squinted at the god, unsure of what to focus on first.

“Thy hair!” Thor rushed forward, as dumbfounded as Tony.

Loki toyed with the ends of his choped hair, now only falling to just past his chin. 

From behind Tony, Amora laughed, loud and high. 

Loki ignored her; he looked put together for the first time in days, the bags that had haunted his eyes were almost entirely gone. His wet hair was slicked back, it made him look younger. As he approached the barrier Tony could smell the mint floating off of him. “Ah, I see you are appreciating the Allfather’s hospitality.” He smirked as the team convened against the barrier. “I have to admit this is a rather amusing first for me.”

Annoyed at his joke, Tony scowled. “Where’ve you been? All your friends get thrown in prison and you take a bath and cut your hair?”

Loki shrugged. “It's a symbolic act. And it was a rather pleasant bath.” His smirk only grew as Tony scoffed. “Also I was avoiding the Allfather. I’ve been busy not being stuck in a prison cell. It’s nice, you should try it.”

“I’m going to throttle you after we get out of here,” Tony threatened.

A threat that Loki laughed off. “You did commit a rather severe degree of treason, Tony. I would know.”

“Very funny.”

Thor pushed his way to the front until he was face to face with Loki. He stared openly. “Brother, he is truly gone?”

Loki’s grin hardened and his eyes lit with something strange. “Somewhere not to be forgotten, but gone, yes.” The fact that Loki again skirted the question frustrated more than just Tony as Natasha sighed heavily beside him.

But Thor seemed to have other things on his mind. “But he… was you? He wasn’t some shade or… fake.”

For a long moment Loki watched the patterns looping across the golden barrier that separated them. He licked his lips and sighed, “he was a me that could have been-- a cautionary tale. I cannot pretend he was something other than me, that…” Loki grimaced slightly before settling back into a tired half-smirk. “That I do not have it in me to do and be that.” The words made Tony flinch; the pure fury of that old Loki who had stopped the world was something to remember. Deadlier and sharper than even the Loki who’d ripped a portal in the sky and nearly killed them all. “But we all change,” Loki met Tony’s eye and winked. “Right? Change is good when you… figure out how to do it properly.”

Steve pressed himself close to the barrier, close enough for Tony to smell burning hair. “What about the scepter? What happened to it?”

“I… ah…  _ broke  _ it.” Loki laughed a bit nervously, like an admission as the team stared at him. “Trust me, it’s dealt with. And if any could lay claim to destroy that thing, I would be he.

“How convenient,” Tony shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms. “Kill two birds with one stone, I’m guessing.” At his comment, Loki flinched.

Before Tony could say anything the god swept to the side of the cell. “Something like that, I suppose.” He ran a hand across the barrier and Tony gratefully watched it disappear. But seconds later Loki snapped his fingers and the same shackles from earlier appeared across everyone’s wrists. “Such efficiency we appreciate here, you understand. Speaking of, I’m here to take you to the Allfather.”

As they walked, Thor scooted to fall in stride beside Loki. “You are enjoying this a bit too easily, methinks.” 

“Now, what gives you such an idea,” Loki shot back with a dazzling grin. “I am, perhaps, appreciating the Allfather’s sense of humor when it is not directed at me… perhaps. But I take no pleasure in this  _ most unfortunate _ of circumstances.” His sarcasm lacked a biting edge.

Thor growled, though Tony saw him again linger on Loki's face as he reached for Loki's neck. “Brother, the last time- before you fell…”

Fending him off with a slap, Loki grimaced. “It felt right.” Even as he swept ahead, Tony saw Loki twirl a finger through his cropped hair.

The throne room was even more ridiculously golden than the rest of the palace. Huge columns lined its sides, Tony eyed them, wondering how structurally necessary they were. Then again, the throne that Odin sat upon was no less grandiose, so it did line up with Asgard’s style. On one arm of the throne rested Thor’s hammer.

Beside Odin stood a tall, blonde woman, with her long hair drawn up in elaborate braids, wearing a deep blue dress. By the way she raked over them with a searching gaze as the team approached and the way she stood, Tony could tell she had to be Thor and Loki’s mom. The only people who could make Tony feel like he was being x-rayed all happened to be Loki’s relatives and she was no exception.

Tony’s attention returned to Odin as the king stood. Loki skirted off to the side, watching with a quirk of a smile. “I see before me,” Odin started what Tony hoped wasn’t a long winded speech. “Seven criminals who laid siege to Asgard,”  _ really cool siege, _ Tony smirked to himself. “One count of royal treason by Asgard’s crown prince.” Thor dipped his head and said nothing. So Odin continued, “all of you attacked protectors of Asgard directly, a grave crime. You committed foreign espionage, infiltrating a land that is not yours. You stormed the dungeons and released two prisoners with full intent to harm one of them. You, by all intents, actively sought to work against the will of Asgard. Do these accusations sound accurate?”

Steve stepped forward and spoke up, “yes, sir. They do.” Tony liked the defiant note in his voice. “We acted knowing exactly what punishment could come.”

“You carried out an attack that cost Asgard the whereabouts of possibly its highest threat prisoner.” As Odin spoke, Tony glanced to Loki, who stared forward, face annoyingly blank. “This was a brazen display for Midgardians and Asgardians alike and such a strike cannot go unacknowledged.” Tony’s smile slipped as Odin continued to talk. Part of him had just assumed Thor would get them out of any consequences. “It is not common practice to hold Midgardians to the standards of Aesir, however. So,” Odin slammed his staff against the ground and the shackles disappeared from Tony’s wrists, along with the rest of the team. “Midgardians, you are to return to your realm and not bother Asgard again, or you shall be punished as an Aesir.”

“Our weapons?” Steve pressed.

And Odin nodded. “Have been returned to Midgard. I am aware you shall have company waiting for you once you return.”

Tony sighed in relief before he saw that Thor and Amora were still handcuffed.

“As for the Aesir; you both showed blatant disrespect for the laws of this land. Thor Odinson, I sentence you to the same task I once assigned to your brother. Serve Midgard until the time comes that I feel your crimes are wiped clean.” Tony saw Thor relax slightly. But Odin wasn’t done. “You are not to return to Asgard unless summoned.” Thor’s shackles fell the way of the team’s and Odin held the hammer out. It returned to Thor’s grip easily.

“And Amora,” all eyes were on the blonde Enchantress, who glared daggers at Thor. “You were once a companion of Loki’s, no?” By the way her lip curled, Tony bet it was more than that. Odin didn’t wait for her response. “You would do well to remember the strength and generosity of Asgard should you ever think to carry out such an attack again. Without the word of my youngest for thy intentions, I would bring thy history of treasonous thoughts against you in this act.” He flicked his wrist and Amora’s shackles disappeared.

Only seconds later, so did she.

Odin dipped his head in their direction. “A guard shall show you to the Bifrost to ensure you leave the realm as intended.” The fact that none of the Asgardians looked surprised by her departure alarmed Tony more than her actually leaving.

Footsteps tapped against the gold floor and Tony turned to see Sif, hand on her spear. She watched them with cool distance.

“I should hope,” but it looked like Odin wasn’t quite done. “That this incident shall not be the first  _ and  _ last impressions the esteemed Avengers make upon this realm. Though that remains to be seen.” And with what Tony thought might be the equivalent of a  _ ‘come back some day,’ _ they left the gaudy throne room.

Sif turned curtly to eye them all. “I am to deliver you directly to Heimdall. Though…” As they rounded the corner, she smiled. “It was not specified what path I am to take you. I believe the streets are a fine way down. And certainly safest, what with the band of criminals who managed to sneak all the way into Asgard’s dungeons free of capture.”

Loki tutted, “Sif, you know better than to believe all the rumors you hear. It should be understood that the act was merely a training exercise for the Einherjar.” Surprised, Tony arched an eyebrow at Loki, who smirked. “I heard it from the mouths of reputable folks so it must be true.” His smirk turned into a wide fox-grin. “Whether or not I put those words there is of little consequence.”

With a laugh, Thor slung an arm around Loki, who tensed.“How fortunate for us that they are such fine listeners, eh?”

But moments later Loki relaxed. “Near everyone is capable of that… given the proper dressing.” Loki glanced back towards Clint, who was busy staring up at the ornate ceiling. “Save Barton, whose gift for ignorance is frankly astonishing.” Without looking down, Clint flipped him off.

As they emerged into daylight Tony heard awed sighs echo around him. Without the looming threat of life threatening consequences he was finally able to really get a look at the city. The stars that littered the sky even in the bright day dipped beneath the watery horizon seemed almost endless. Tony felt like he could watch them for hours and still find something new. But the gods clearly had no intentions of slowing down to gawk even as the rest of the team stood, starstruck.

Asgard’s marketplace was wilder and busier than any city Tony'd ever seen. He whipped out his phone in a vain attempt to record it all; from kids with ridiculous braids running around swinging glittering wooden swords, to a squadron of massive men, taller even than Thor, holding bundles of bright linens and heavy, brilliantly violet tulips, to people Tony swore had elf ears. The shops that littered the streets were stacked high with creations Tony didn’t recognize and he didn’t have the willpower to stop himself from begging a debt off the gods to buy something. And he wasn’t the only one.

By the time the gods pulled them away from the market everyone was laden down with a new toy. Tony fiddled with a puzzle that Loki had smirked at him for picking even as Loki had paid for it, in Tony’s pocket was a sweet smelling incense bundle for Pepper. Steve toted a thick roll of heavy paper that shimmered in a rainbow of colors, something he’d picked out after they stopped to watch a painter turn a roll into a fantastic approximation of the rainbow bridge. Natasha tossed a heavy, dark metal ball high in the air and watched as it returned easily to her hand as if drawn by magnets; by the way the gods avoided its path, Tony nervously kept it in the corner of his eye. Bruce wrapped himself in a thick blanket that looked like wool but felt like silk. Clint, apparently the only practical one, bought a bundle of arrows, all with unpronounceable names who’s tips gleamed with spells.

Even Thor and Loki weren’t immune. Thor bought an old bottle of golden mead that glinted as he held it in the light and two silverine cloaks. Loki cradled a tiny, spiky plant in an ornate white clay pot.

“That thing’s not gonna grow up and eat all of us, is it?” Tony watched the little succulent-like plant carefully as Loki ran a finger across it’s blue leaves. The brilliant rainbow bridge beneath them pulsed with energy that Tony could feel warming his feet and coursing through his body.

“Oh, most certainly,” Loki said with an entirely straight face as he glanced up and brandished the plant near Tony.

Ducking under the thing, Tony smirked and ignored how looking at Loki made his stomach clench for just a moment. “Gotta name it Audrey then, sorry I don’t make the rules.” Loki’s blank stare was only compounded by Natasha’s muffled snort on Tony’s left.

Huffing, Loki twisted his hands and the plant disappeared into thin air. 

The action reminded Tony of the now wayward Amora. “Are we going after blondie or what? We can't just leave her out there.”

Loki exchanged a quick look with Thor as they approached the golden dome that sat on the edge of the abyss. “That we kept our word should be enough to stave her off for the time being.”

“And after that?”

“We shall deal with that when it comes. If it comes.” Now staring resolutely at his feet, Loki noticeably slowed his pace. He seemed to consider every step before taking it, as if the very solid bridge underneath them might suddenly turn into a real rainbow and dump them into the ocean below.

Tony glanced out into the abyss, remembering, with a pang that cut through his muddled anger, what little Loki had told him about his first big fight with Thor. 

When they stepped into the huge, shining dome the golden eyed guy wasn’t the only one waiting. The queen watched them with her hands clasp in front of her. Beside Tony, Loki stiffened. She smiled at them as Tony saw Steve dip his head. “That our first meeting must also be a goodbye fills me with regret but to finally see the Midgardians my sons speak so highly of is quite the honor.”

“Er,” Tony glanced from her to Loki who was blank faced. “Yeah, it’s definitely been an experience.”

Her smile for him was tight. On the center platform the golden eyed guy, Heimdall, dipped his head. “Are our…  _ guests _ slated to return?”

Sif crossed her arms and again fell into a cross silence, something Tony recognized Pepper use at board meetings. “Aye, that they are.”

While she spoke, Tony watched the queen approach her sons; Thor first and she took him into a hug that he returned. She muttered something in his ear that was too soft for Tony to catch. When she moved onto Loki she hesitated. The pair stared at eachother and Tony saw how her hand hovered just above Loki’s own. After a long moment she brushed a stray hair behind Loki's ear and nodded.

He visibly sighed and pulled away.

With a fluid strike Heimdall drove his golden sword into the pedestal and electricity arced throughout the room as the dome around them spun, the gears of it’s walls turning. As Tony watched the outlet pointing into the void lit with a rainbow of colors. He stepped forward, spurred on by Loki’s hand at his back as the team moved forward until the spinning colors tugged on Tony’s clothes and hair. Glancing back at Sif, he waved a hand. “Yo, call if you want to spear some baddies! I’ll keep a room open.” Before the light took them he saw her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A: This one is long, wow I didn't realize. B: This is by far the chapter that makes me the most nervous because it strays so far from both the movies and the comic inspiration for this story by necessity to blend the two. C: it took me nearly 2 weeks of deliberation to finally go through with cutting Loki's hair


	13. 13: End, Straying

The roar of the Bifrost deposited them atop Stark Tower and within moments the aurora and wind that tore across the sky faded into naught, leaving only the scorched concrete to show that the bridge had been open at all. Loki shut his eyes, thankful to be rid of the thing and listening to the wailing of Midgardian life far beneath them. 

“Holy shit,” Tony mumbled, swaying. The sentiment was shared across the team.

Watching them recover, Loki ignored how Thor hovered like a worried gnat by his side; as if he feared Loki would bolt.

_ Truly his confidence was inspiring, _ Loki thought dryly.

Cries of relief rang from behind them as the doors to the tower swung open. Jane rushed towards Thor and Pepper to Tony, who swept her into a hug grinning. Darcy toted what looked to be Barton’s bow on her back and waved them down. “Yo, yo! You’re not dead! Hey Clint, I shot your bow and broke a window!”

The sound of Barton’s laugh mingled with Tony’s outraged complaint.

Throwing back a thumb, Darcy handed over the bow. “Rest of the gear’s inside. The fancy space viking that dropped them off was pretty cute.” She glanced to Loki. “Blonde, mustache? I think he was around a few years ago.”

“Thought rather highly of himself?” Loki asked though he knew full well Fandral was the culprit. When Darcy nodded enthusiastically he smirked. “Do not raise thy hopes. He is a notorious flirt of no commitment.”

“Boo,” she pouted briefly though seemed to recover quickly. “Eh, he’s not my type anyway.” She raked over him with an appreciative eye. “I like the haircut.” With a wink she flipped her hair and ran to Jane.

Loki watched her go for a brief moment before he left the team far behind.

Appearing in Paris, he flicked his wrist and settled for a trim suit. Across the dark street Amora waited for him at the same cafe, wearing a slim, dark green dress and heavy gold bangles. He crossed the road quickly and dipped his head. 

She smirked up at him. “Don’t expect me to thank you.”

“Yggdrasil would sooner crumble, Amora, I am aware.” He took the opposite seat and waited.

Amora leaned in close enough for him to smell cherry blossom on her hair. “So… what actually happened to the old one?”

“I should hope you’d at least buy me dinner before such queries.” When Amora scowled in disbelief be smiled with false benevolence back and arched an eyebrow.

“Oh, I hate you.”

It wasn’t until a cheese plate had been laid in front of them that Loki spoke again. “Did you guess what was in that scepter?”

Running a finger around the edge of her wineglass, Amora nodded. “Which gem was it? Mind?” When he smiled wider she sighed. “What I could have done with that… But my question remains unanswered, sweetie.”

Watching the light of a streetlamp glint off his glass, Loki hummed. “Mmm… we- they- I-- waded into a murky, cold lake knowing not how deep it was nor how strong the tide would be until it swept us away. I am who dragged themselves out of that lake.”

“Endearingly cryptic,” Amora quipped. Her eyes narrowed and Loki sipped his wine as she searched him over. No longer did her gaze feel quite so hungry, moreso she treaded with a cautious curiosity that Loki had recognized when the Allfather had asked the same questions. Neither of them deserved any straight answer he could wish to give. “So what are you, then?”

“Why, I’m Loki. Obviously.”

Spearing a cheese cube with her finger, Amora paused and bit her lip. “But which one? I’ve met more than I’d expect to in the past weeks.”

Their waiter returned to refill Loki’s wine with a smile. Once he vanished inside Loki shrugged. “Both? Neither? To avoid an existential nightmare I am avoiding deliberating the details.” Coating the truth in a lie, Loki let Amora weave her own interpretation. He quietly revelled in the fluidity available to him. To give no explanation was to create no box to lie in, nor to allow others to craft that box for him. He grasp real freedom like never before.

Though the cost for such freedom he dared not linger on.

“Aren’t you a fun enigma?” Pushing her chair back, Amora smiled at him with measured envy. “Hope you keep that gem somewhere safe, Loki. Or maybe I don’t and you’ll get sloppy so I can have it. Who knows.” Her smile was teasingly smug.

“Amora, I would caution against that.” Loki followed her stand, straightening his back until he towered over her. 

“Oh?” She tugged on his collar, unphased. “And why is that?”

“Have you yet paused to consider I might possess even a fraction of my not-elder’s strengths?” She blinked overlong as he let menace slip into his voice. “Or perhaps more than a fraction.”

Hands clenched at her sides, Amora raised her chin. “Are you attempting to intimidate me?”

“Oh, I am not  _ attempting  _ anything.” He chuckled at how she grit her teeth as his presence loomed. “I wriggled you free of the Allfather’s punishment, Amora, but of the very short list of people I care for, you are not among them. In fact, you seem to have caused some deal of grief to quite a number of that list. You  _ quite literally _ , have no idea what  _ I _ am capable of. Or what I am willing to do to keep what I've earned.”

When he took a step forward, Amora held up her hands. “I was merely joking,” she laughed nervously as Loki curled his lip. “I, ah… may take your advice and make myself scarce. There are eight other realms, after all.”

“I shall count on it.”

With a terse nod she took a step back. “Oh, and Loki.” They met eyes and Loki watched her try to pick him apart with her gaze. “If I do end up in Asgard’s dungeons despite all this I shall be sure to take you down with me.”

She disappeared in a flash of light that burst against the dark skyline.

For a beat, Loki glared into the night. Breaking into a smirk, Loki laughed with relief that his lie had been so flawlessly bought. Flexing his right hand, Loki brushed against his seidr and severed it from the hungry tug of the Mind Gem that had assisted his con from the pocket reality he had hidden it within.

Able to breathe deep again as the thrumming, almost overwhelming power of the gem subsided, Loki shuddered at the chill that ran down his spine. Only seconds later, he vanished from the french street.

“Shit,” Tony yelped as Loki appeared beside him on the tower’s couches among the team, who echoed his cries. As Loki watched, his face flashed from shock, to relief, to a low boiling anger that sent a ripple of discontent through Loki. “Oh, you came back. Jackass, where’d you go?”

Offput by the anger in Tony’s voice, Loki didn’t reply until he caught Tony’s wrist mid swat. “I merely snipped clean a loose end.” He let Tony pull away.

Looking mildly skeptical, Tony grunted. “Uh-huh. And what part of that is a lie this time.” Tony’s cool gaze was unrelenting but Loki met it.

“A fair guess.” When Tony didn’t smirk, Loki looked briefly for approval from the team and found it in the small, tense smile shared by a number of them. Emboldened, he turned back. “There are none such lies to give.” The words did little to appease Tony, who turned to Pepper pointedly. His action left Loki staring at the side of his head, uncertain.

But before Loki could speak, Darcy, who was wearing the silverine cloak Thor had bought for her, jumped him, shattering the moment before the tension could build. “Hey, you ruined my good work!” She pointed at his nails and the flecked polish but as Loki inspected her face there was a seriousness behind her eyes. He smiled slightly;  _ perhaps she was a mite more aware than the credit she was given. _ He was no stranger to the purposes personas can serve. “First the haircut, now this? If I’d known you’d take the emo comment so seriously I might not have said it.” She winked slyly. “Jane,” turning away from Loki but still perched precariously on the couch, she shouted far too loud into the quiet room. “Grab the box, I gotta fix this mess!” She swiveled her critical eye to the rest of the team. “Who else needs a touch up?”

Natasha raised Steve’s hand for him, smirking. Beside her, Clint offered up a hand as well.

Darcy broke into an astoundingly wide grin. “Awesome! D’you think I can put  _ ‘Official Avengers Nail Stylist’ _ on my resume?”

The evening gladly dissolved into something resembling a peaceful one as Darcy masterfully reigned them towards relaxation. Loki watched and let her lead, impressed by her manipulations, so subtle they’d even tricked him before. At her suggestion they returned to the odd movies they had left off and watched them late into the night. 

Slowly, Loki watched the toll of exhaustion steal away the team until only he, Thor, Pepper, and Tony remained alert. The last of whom had firmly ignored Loki and immediately stood as the credits rolled and a melodic tune crooned. “I’ve got work to do.” They watched him leave, silent save for the song.

When the glow of the elevator vanished, Loki turned away and saw Thor watching him. There was unmasked concern in his blue eyes; it made Loki wince.

What Loki had told Amora, that he was new and freed from his role at the cost of other selves, he feared revealing to Thor. Feared denial, feared that Thor would balk at the idea, feared accusal of the Mind Gem’s purpose. If Thor denied this idea it would only carve out a nook of Loki’s old role and weigh him down towards it. Loki would not let that happen,  _ could not, _ he’d do near anything to ensure his freedom.

Whatever it was Thor saw in Loki, it left him visibly shaken. No doubt Thor thought he saw an echo of the Loki who'd fallen staring at him from across the room.

Standing, Loki looked away to ruin the echo and remind Thor of the sharp edges he earned. “I’m feeling some animosity from Stark. I should--” Pepper caught his wrist and he stared at her delicate hand. She withdrew it moments later, hurriedly. 

“I wouldn’t. Just give him some time to think.”

Barking a laugh that made Pepper jump, Loki shook his head. “No, I’ll fix it.” The last he saw of her was a sympathetic grimace.

Loki appeared behind Tony in his workshop. Screaming rock music blasted from unseen speakers and Loki felt the bass thrumming painfully through him as he peered over Tony’s shoulder. He held what looked to be Romanoff’s Widow Bites and was fidgeting with one. Even as Loki watched, the Bite went off prematurely, sparking electricity across the table and lighting up another of Tony’s discarded mechanical projects while Tony cursed.

“Perhaps disarm them next time?” Leaning over Tony’s shoulder, Loki let himself smile wryly.

Tony jumped. “Jesus! Shit.” He swiveled in his stool and fixed Loki with a tired look. “Jarvis, music.”

The room went silent.

“Unless you enjoy being electrocuted, of course.” Loki kept his caustic tone as he pulled back to allow Tony room. “You should have told me sooner, I have  _ quite  _ the source.”

The corner of Tony’s mouth twitched up but he fell into a dark sigh. “Yeah, well…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

A pit of uncertainty curled in Loki’s gut. “Anthony, I… I must apologize.” The words near caught in Loki's throat but he forced them nevertheless.

“Maybe.” Without the shrieking music, a low hum of air conditioning ran throughout the room. Tony ran a hand through his hair. “So… you gonna give me the truth or what?” Fixing Loki with a tired, fake smile, Tony spoke slowly. “What’d you do with the old guy? And don’t say--”

“I don’t know.”

“Ugh…” The disappointment in Tony’s voice was palpable. To Loki, it was worse than fury. Fury he could manage, but there was no emotion to understand in Tony's voice.

“That’s the truth.”

“Fine.” Tony sounded resigned.

Loki blinked at him, going cold. “That  _ is  _ the truth, Anthony. I cannot change it. I doubt I will ever truly understand what exactly they- I did. That's the point.” He watched Tony pace but felt no anger from the Midgardian. “I can understand if you are mad. I deserve that--”

But Tony cut him off. “I’m not mad. Really. I’m just tired of the game.” There was awful resignation in his voice.

Loki’s breath caught in his throat. “No,” he choked out, stepping forward.

Tony stared at him, dully. “Excuse me?”

“Be angry. You have every right--”

“No, Loki. I’m sure you had a reason for not telling us about the old guy. And if you don’t wanna say why, fine; that’s your prerogative.” Tony shook his head, turning back to his work. “I’m over being mad at the stunts you pull.” Picking up the Widow Bites again, he flipped them over and began to disassemble them. “That’s all I got.”

For a long, silent moment, Loki watched him. He’d wanted freedom, revelled in the uncertainty of it all. But  _ this _ , this frightened him near as much as falling into his old role. Indifference was an unknown he wished to keep that way. 

Tony glanced up at him after he said nothing. “You wanna help me fix the problem with these things? Or are you gonna go?” He shook the wires of the Widow Bites out onto the table and went back to working, not waiting for a response.

In the end, the stifling, indifferent silence drove Loki away and he retreated to his quarters. In darkness he retrieved the golden Mind Gem from its pocket reality and twirled it between his fingers, watching it glimmer. He felt the gem tug at his seidr, hungry to be used. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the desire down, locking it away. After all he’d sacrificed he would not let this gem drag him back to that pit, for it was the one thing that could. He'd do anything to keep that freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's over, I'm publishing this! In answer to whether or not Loki is actually something new: he certainly believes so. And finally I've got Loki in a place where I can start to deal with the other Avengers more heavily. I can give him a little bit of a break from the existential horror, I think he earned it.


End file.
